Need You Now
by Severus' Malfoy Maiden
Summary: The Golden Trio are Aurors and Hermione is asked to put her life on the line to prevent another crime spree.
1. The Proposition

_**Her**_

She sat alone at the bar, staring down at the amber liquid swirling around in the glass. Sighing, she drank the last bit. She tipped the glass and looked at the bartender.

Understanding her unspoken request, he walked over, shaking his head and poured her another. "Last call," he said.

_I reach for the phone because I can't fight it anymore and I wonder if I ever cross your mind. _

_For me it happens all the time_.

She looked at her watch. I_t's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now. I said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control. Another shot of whiskey; I can't stop looking at the door. I wish you'd come sweeping in the way you did before. I'm a little drunk and I need you now._

_**Him**_

_I recognize your number it's burned into my brain; I felt my heart beat faster every time it rang. Some things never change, that's why I didn't answer._

_I bet you're in a bar, listening to music; a glass of firewhiskey in front of you with no one to take you home._

_They're probably closing down saying, "No more alcohol." _

_I don't need to check the message, I know what it says, "I miss you."_

_It's doesn't mean anything when there is whiskey on your breath. I'm always your last call_.

She gulped down the burning liquid and got up to leave. Pulling a galleon out of her purse, she dropped it on the bar as a tip.

"Bye, Eddie," she said and waved at the bartender, watching him for a moment wipe the counter down. She is the last person to leave… again.

He smiled at her. "Bye, Hermione," he replied and went back to cleaning.

She bundled up and stepped out into the blistering wind and snow, walking to her flat instead of Apperating. She checked her sleeve for her wand; she knows it's there, but it's like a security blanket; knowing it's there.

She shivers when she opens the door to her apartment, and pulls off her coat, hanging it up on the peg, by the door. She shakes off both the cold and the snow.

Making her way to the kitchen to fix some tea, as she isn't tired, she hears Crookshanks meow and follow her.

"Hey, Crooksy, Are you hungry?" she asked in her sweetest you're-my-only-friend tone of voice.

The half-kneazle meows in response. He waits patiently for his mistress to open the can of cat food and spoon it into his bowl for him to gobble down.

He can't stand it anymore. He pulled on his coat and walked out the door, leaving his roommates to shake their heads at him.

He walks instead of Apperating. It's cold, but it helps to clear his head. Shortly after he begins walking, the cold starts seeping into his skin, making him shiver; he picked up the pace and pulled his collar up. Her flat is just around the corner.

_Why do I keep doing this_? He asks himself while he walks. _I love her that's why_. _I've loved her since fourth year, I've just never told her, which makes me an idiot._

She opened the cupboard and pulled out her favorite cup.

She waits for the tea to brew and sits atop the counter, thinking. _Why do I always call him_? _This sucks!_

_Why don't I just come out and tell him_? _OH right! It's because he would run, screaming from the room. Besides, we're partners, we can't be lovers too. It's too dangerous_.

Only a few things have changed regarding the Golden Trio, since the second wizarding war. Harry defeated Voldemort, but the Trio didn't break up or go their separate ways, in fact, just the opposite, they became Aurors... together. Ron and Hermione are partners and Harry is partnered with Draco Malfoy of all people.

Draco… he turned out to be a great guy, once he was removed from the corrupting attitudes of his father. In fact, he's around Harry, Ron and Hermione so much that the Prophet writes about the 'Fantastic Four' more often than they do about the Golden Trio. The wizards even moved in together, as if just working with each other fourteen hours a day wasn't enough.

Harry, Ron and Draco live together and even tried talking Hermione into living with them, too; however, once she spent the weekend with them in their large flat, she decided it was best if she moved into her own space, if not for her sanity than for theirs.

She couldn't handle the constant disorganization, socks everywhere and the smell of raw maleness. She ended up nagging and scolding them incessantly; it just wouldn't do. Not to mention to torrent of witches camped outside their building and the vocal declarations of passion and undying lust; so she found her own flat and their relationship was happy and healthy because of it.

She could sleep… in relative peace, without worrying if she needed to put up extra strong silencing charms around her room to prevent her from listening to the boys' sexcapades in stereo.

She really didn't know how they all lived like that. She suspected they drew a keen pleasure from trying to 'out do' one another… well Harry and Draco at least; Ron never spoke about his endeavors with women, at least, not around her.

She was right around the corner, in a nice, organized, and clean and sock free household.

She sighed and moved to the bathroom to wash her face.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She was pretty; she was certainly hit on enough to know that she was no ugly duckling. Her hair had calmed on its own and now fell in a wavy curtain down her back. She usually kept it up in a pony tail or a braid, but she liked it down. She had smooth, pale skin and a smattering of freckles that just barely covered her nose and cheeks. Her full lips were a rosy pink often described by her suitors as 'kissable'.

She rolled her eyes. She never dated, most men annoyed her with their vows to protect her and love her forever.

She didn't need protecting; she was one of the best Aurors the Dept. of Magical Law Enforcement had, for Merlins sake!

She eyed the thin white scar, running down the left side of her face. It started near her ear and ran diagonal through the hollow of her cheek, ending at her chin. She usually used a glamour charm if she went out, but for work she left it. It added a bit of ferocity to her small stature and normally nonthreatening persona. Upon seeing that scar, for some reason, criminals were less likely to mess with her.

She remembered the day she received that particular scar... and a few others.

She had been kidnapped by Fenrir Greyback; he beat her to within an inch of her life, and still she fought him. He had gone for a few hours to do Merlin knew what.

She occupied herself with thoughts of heroic measures taken by the Order to rescue her. By the time he returned, she knew someone would come and get her, but even that knowledge was not enough to quell her fear.

When Fenrir finally did come back, she thought she was going to die. He had a strange look in his eye; she realized slowly that her life was not to end at that moment.

No, he approached her with slow deliberation, watching her; his eyes traveling down her lithe body like she was his next meal.

She screamed and backed further into the corner.

That was the worst night of her life, she had been forcibly bedded by Fenrir Greyback and when the cavalry rode in, it was Remus who had been killed by her rapist.

Fenrir was subsequently killed by a well aimed Avada curse from Harry, but she didn't see that, all she saw was Remus fall.

She crawled over to him, in those last moments, as he lay bleeding to death in her arms. She bent her ear to his mouth to hear his last words, "I love you," he whispered and left this world for another.

She sobbed over his body and couldn't be moved. It was at Ron's urging that she let him be cleaned up and given a proper burial.

_Remus,_ she thought. She smiled, remembering how they came to be.

Once they defeated Voldemort, she moved to Grimmauld place while they went through Auror training. Remus was living there with her and Harry. He had moved in after Sirius died.

Somewhere in between the fierce intellectual debates and the quiet library time they shared while reading, they had fallen in love. For eighteen months, they laughed, lived and loved each other with abandon.

His death marked a steep decline in her sense of self worth.

Ron had taken it upon himself to assert his cheerful attitude into her life. She was averse at first, but slowly snapped out of her depression and thoughts of living a solitary life, defending the innocent and punishing the guilty; his smile was contagious.

She smiled at the thought of seeing his bright blue eyes, flaming red hair, usually ruffled in some way, and large calloused hands waving wildly while he spoke of some adventure in which he had engaged.

She had fallen in love for the second time in her young life, this time with her childhood friend.

They had kissed once during the battle with Voldemort, but in her mind it didn't count. It wasn't a 'kiss' per se; it was more of a bump of the lips, so inexperienced she was at the time.

She had only ever had sex with Remus; he was her first and only since his death.

She didn't count the other. After Fenrir was done with her and she was moved from Remus' body the physical pain of being beaten, raped and sleep deprived came flooding into her senses. She shivered, thinking about the physical pain she felt for days afterward. She refused to accept any pain potion to dull the ache, she wanted to remember.

That was four years ago.

She felt dirty and used, still does on occasion. _Ron doesn't want someone …tainted. He deserves the purity of love without baggage_. She thought miserably, _so why do I call him_?

_Almost there. I need to tell her_. He sighed. She had been so different after Remus' death and … well, Fenrir.

His heart broke when he'd found her. Her small body wracked with sobs over Remus' corpse. He realized she had been raped a moment after that, when he took in all the blood. It was covering her bottom half, smeared between her legs and she wasn't able to stand without grimacing in pain.

He had thrown a cloak over her naked form and just hugged her gently, trying to move her over to the Healer, but the little woman wouldn't budge. He snorted. S_he's stronger than she looks_.

Finally he convinced her that they needed to clean Remus up and bury him properly.

She relented.

He carried her to the Healer and watched in horror as the witch ran a diagnostic charm on Hermione to determine the extent of her injuries. She had been raped and sodomized by the evil werewolf, beaten, with several broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. She had several mean looking scratches running across her face, a few down her back and claw marks on her buttocks.

He had avoided her for a while, but missed her terribly, maybe selfishly, but missed her nonetheless.

He had been watching her since fourth year, jealously hiding his desire to be with her, to hear her laughter at something he said, to feel her presence.

He'd dated Lavender for a short time during sixth year, but she just drove him crazy with her baby talk and nick names – won won. He grunted at the memory. _UGH!_

He felt her wards softly encompass him and stepped forward to open the door. She always made sure Ron, Harry or Draco could get through without extensive spell breaking and wand waving.

"'Mione?" he called, taking off his coat and hanging it on the peg near the door. He used to drop it on the couch, but after a few hundred times of her huffing and puffing about his slovenly ways, he got the hint and started picking up after himself while he was over at her place.

He smiled, she hadn't heard him. She was sitting on the counter, holding a cup of steaming hot tea, staring off into space.

She was wearing light blue flannel pajamas with white snowflakes on them.

"Mione," he said softly.

She startled and jumped off the counter. She smiled at him, but didn't move. "Ron," she whispered relieved that he came.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey," she replied. "Want some tea?" she asked lamely, wanting to end the awkward silence.

He didn't respond, only walked to her with his arms out to embrace her. He knew she just wanted to feel his warmth and the security he offered.

She looked at him with love – it was practically spelled out on her forehead and nodded.

Waving her wand, she put the dishes in the sink and turned the lights out; together they walked to her darkened bedroom.

She slid her pink bunny slippers off, placing them neatly by the bed and unfolded the covers.

She slid inside and waited for him to slip his shoes off.

He laid down next to her, on top of the comforter and wrapped his strong arms around her. He wouldn't stay all night long, he never did; she just didn't want to fall asleep alone on the nights she called him.

They never kissed.

They never had sex.

They never touched in a sexual manner, even though both wanted nothing more than to feel the heat of each other's bodies.

They never spoke about it come the next Monday for work. It was strictly platonic and it was killing Ron.

She woke up the next morning and did what she always did: rolled over and smelled the pillow Ron's head was occupying just hours before. She could smell him so strongly...she inhaled deeply and didn't move for a few moments.

Monday morning rolled around and 'the Fantastic Four' had been summoned by Alastair Moody, Chief of Magical Law Enforcement.

Hermione was the last to arrive, walking into the Chiefs office to find her counterparts, the Chief and the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Miss Granger, how good of you to take time out of your busy schedule," Moody said sarcastically.

"Anything for you, Moody," she said in a seductively sweet and innocent voice while giving him one of her sugary smiles that would charm the coldest heart. Hermione flopped down in the only seat left.

Moody made a soft noise that fit somewhere in between a growl of irritation and a chuckle of flattery.

Her eyes roamed around, looking for something and waited for a moment.

Moody noticed and rolled his one good eye heavenward. "What, Miss Granger?" he snapped, but he loved her and she knew it.

She smirked at him. "No Coffee?" she asked with a completely believable innocent expression on her face.

Ron and Draco snickered and Harry rolled his eyes, too. The Minister coughed to stifle the chuckle and looked at Moody's expression of exasperation.

She lived to annoy the man.

"No, Granger. No coffee; should have thought about that while you were lollygagging in the hallways here," he snapped.

She snorted and remained silent.

"We have a lead on where several rogue Death Eaters are congregating these days, committing every crime known to wizards. We are preparing for an undercover operation sting and we need you four to lead it." Moody paused to let it sink in and then he continued, "We need an insider to work at a place called Bare Witches."

Hermione took all of this in while studying her nails. She looked up after Moody stopped speaking to notice that all five wizards were looking at her.

"Seriously?" she asked annoyed – she was to be the insider. "What about Draco this time?"

Kingsley cleared his throat and answered, "He …ah…doesn't have the right…equipment," he replied nervously.

They had all been witness to the young Aurors temper, during school and during the war; most people thought twice about pissing her off.

They had all known each other for a very long time; Moody and Shacklebolt had known the four since they were fourteen years old – they were now 26 years old.

"Equipment?" she asked puzzled, but only for a second and then narrowed her eyes accusingly. "What type of place is this, exactly?"

Suddenly no one could look her in the eyes. She was getting angrier by the second.

She looked around at the group of silent men. They had abruptly taken a keen interest in either their shoes, the invisible lint on their clothes or the floor; frustrated she hissed, "Spill it or I'm walking out of here."

It was the Minister who finally worked up the courage to speak, "It's a topless bar," he squeaked quietly.

"Pardon?" She asked, hoping she didn't hear him correctly.

He cleared his throat. "A topless bar. We need you to get a job there and find out what you can, identify the patrons and get in good with the other girls."

She just looked at him. "…and how do you propose I do that, Kings?" she asked, using his nickname. "I am Hermione Granger, one-third of the Golden Trio ….SERIOUSLY, KINGS, HOW THE FUCK AM I GOING UNDER COVER?" she yelled the last part and stood up to bring home the point.

Every wizard in the room cringed visibly.

"We thought of that," Moody said quietly. He was feeling a little guilty now as she was the last to know and it would be her arse on the front line, but he had needed to get her colleagues buy in first or he and Kings would be arguing with them, too. The three men were very protective of '_**their**__ 'Mione'_.

She looked at him with an expression of both rage and curiosity; an expression only the Princess of Gryffindor could pull off successfully.

"A scandal. You'll be fired and charged publicly. We hired the Prophet to write the headline."

She was now way passed rage and heading towards murderous, but she paused, "You…_hired_?"

They all winced at Moody's slip up. _Well the cat was out of the bag now._ "Yes, we were planning on you agreeing and we have a press conference in half an hour."

She pulled out her wand and to her surprise, all three fellow Aurors jumped to the aid of Moody.

"WAIT! 'Mione, we need you to focus. It's all a façade; we need to take these wizards down. Innocent families are being destroyed. We have to help and the only way we can do that is if you get in there and make nice with the scum," Harry said in a rush, hoping she would listen to him.

She did, but she didn't like it. She sat back down. "What charges?" she asked.

"Extortion, reckless endangerment of an innocent bystander, and use of an unforgiveable," Moody listed.

"Which unforgiveable and why must you attack my integrity and ethics?" this was important to her; she didn't want to be known as a murderer and hated the idea of being thought of as morally bankrupt.

"Cruciatus Curse and because it's believable; people will like the idea that you have fallen from grace and since you pride yourself on your integrity, well… it's just easy for those, who don't know you, to believe."

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "OK. What now?"

"We arrest you," Draco said with a smirk, pulling out Muggle handcuffs.

She took one look at those and looked back at Moody, who was quietly snickering. "COME ON!" she yelled before they all burst out into laughter.


	2. The Cell

"Just a few details before we arrest Hermione," Moody said, sniggering a little as he said it.

_Because it was indeed comical, Hermione Granger was made from the strongest moral fiber imaginable. Her integrity and clear understanding of right and wrong was second to none, which is why she and her team were chosen. She was above bribery and temptation... at least in that environment… she was also quite a snob once you got to know her – though he would never say that out loud_, he thought mischievously.

"We have an informant on the inside, but he can not work in the capacity that you can, Miss Granger. He runs the place and is somewhat …intimidating, which results in a tightly run, but not especially friendly atmosphere when he is near," Moody told the group.

Hermione narrowed her eyes for the third time in the twenty minutes that she had been there. "Professor Snape," She concluded to the utter shock of both Kingsley and Moody.

"How did you figure that out?" Harry asked, knowing she was right on the money when he saw the reaction of both the older wizards.

She looked at him like he was slow. "Who would be comfortable in an environment with Death Eaters, criminals and in general, bottom feeders, but still do the right thing? Someone who has experience with this sort of informant role? Not to mention, intimidating, in charge and unfriendly," she finished, hoping her colleagues would see it.

They did and nodded.

"Will he know my situation?" she asked.

"Yes, he has been informed and will also be there for your added protection," Kingsley said.

"Added?" she asked.

"Yes, Malfoy, Potter and Weasely will be there as patrons, watching…"

"No," she said.

"What do you mean 'No'?" Moody snapped irritated with being told what to do.

"I mean, No. **I** have to do this, fine, but I will be there as a …dancer, right?" she didn't know what else to call those women; '_cheap whores' just didn't seem right_, she thought.

Moody nodded, seeing where this was going; she didn't want her friends seeing her in such a state. Strangers and criminals were fine, but people about whom she cared and respected and who cared and respected her, no.

"OK," he conceded

"WHAT!" the wizards in questions yelled in unison and then spoke all at once, giving Moody _**and**_ Hermione a headache.

"She can't…."

"She'll be…"

"SNAPE!"

"…go in there…"

"…alone…"

"SNAPE?"

"STOP TALKING!" Kingsley yelled. "You will be disillusioned outside and down the street a bit, you will hear every conversation she has and if she speaks the code word you will be seconds away from her."

"I presume you are comfortable with Severus there?" Moody asked, knowing that she and Severus were friends.

She was his apprentice her last year at Hogwarts and got to know the former Death Eater on a more personal basis. Nothing sexual, just a few layers beneath the snarky dungeon bat persona he presented in front of students.

He was one of the few, who she could talk to about Remus anymore… and about Ron. He was a wonderful listener and had quite a sense of humor if you could get past the biting sarcasm that encompassed him.

"Yes, sir," she said.

"What's the code word?" Draco asked still holding the cuffs.

"How about the phrase: 'These boots are made for walking', that way there's no confusing her intent when she speaks those words," Ron said casually, though Draco, Harry and Hermione were all looking at him with a smirk plastered on their faces.

"What?" he asked

"Nothing, nothing," she said and smiled at him.

"OK then, it's time. Hermione," Kingsley motioned for her to be cuffed.

Draco, chuckled the entire time.

"Let's go face the hungry lions," Moody said as they all stood.

Hermione's outward appearance was cool and collected if not bleak, but inside she thought her heart was going to pound a hole right into her chest and jump out into the crowd of people shouting questions to the Minister.

"Please, quiet down, please," Kingsley paused. "Miss Granger has been charged and will be tried fairly by the Wizengamot. She is no longer an Auror, obviously, as her title has been stripped and her finances suspended."

"HeeHee he said stripped," Harry whispered, sniggering.

Draco and Ron coughed, Hermione rolled her eyes and Moody turned around, pretending to be looking for criminals.

"It would help if you shed a tear or two," Moody whispered to her.

"I'm supposed to be a criminal. Criminals don't cry, they snarl and remain stoic," she said out of the side of her mouth.

"What criminals have you been around? They cry all the time like little babies," Draco said quietly. "In fact, I've _seen_ you make a few cry, so don't give me crap."

"Yes, well, your father never cried and he is who I'm emulating," she said again through the side of her mouth.

He tilted his head in acquiescence. "Touché, Granger."

She was standing on the stage in between a serious looking Draco Malfoy and grim Harry Potter; her hands were behind her back.

Badges out, each Auror had a firm hold of one of Hermoine's upper arms. Ron was standing directly behind her with his hand lightly touching the small of her back; she could feel each exhalation he made as it ruffled her hair.

Moody was walking around the stage ever vigilant.

Kingsley was standing at the podium and looked down at the press below en masse.

She thought, randomly, that she must look very small, standing next to these tall, tree-like wizards. The disparity in height was never as vivid as it was right at this moment.

A question was yelled out and directed to Harry. "Harry Potter, How does it feel to have one of your best friends, someone who helped you defeat the Dark Lord, be arrested?"

He paused. "It's… disappointing." That was all he said, but she could see the headlines now: HARRY POTTER DISAPPOINTED!

And then it was over.

She heard Kingsley thank the press for coming and tell Draco, Ron and Harry to escort her to her cell.

No one else knew, so when she was lead down to the holding cells, she received sneers, leers and biting remarks. She felt her team tense trying to restrain themselves from defending her.

There was only one slip, a particularly nasty remark made by another Auror to Ron, "I bet you're thanking your lucky stars that you didn't climb that mountain, huh?" he said and slapped Ron on the shoulder, laughing. Of course, the Auror meant Hermione was the mountain and Ron was the climber.

It happened so fast, she felt the absence of Ron's hand on her back and heard an "OOOOMPH" from the Auror when Ron slammed him up against the wall.

"AUROR WEASLEY! That will be quite enough," Moody yelled with authority and Ron let the Auror drop without a word.

She willed herself to take a deep breath and entered the cell slowly. It smelled like pee. Its walls had graffiti on the poorly painted cinder block a cement floor with no covering.

There was a small dirty sink with a faucet, she refused to touch, and a silver toilet. She couldn't bring herself to take a detailed look into it. The cell was small approximately five feet across and eight feet deep and fit a small cot with a tattered green prison blanket on top.

She turned to the small group standing by the door. "Expecting Slytherins?" she asked, referring to the green blanket.

Harry and Draco smiled at her, then blew her a kiss and left. They didn't like this now that it was actually happening. Both hoping everything went smoothly and she would be returned to them unharmed.

Ron was the last to leave. "I'll be back later, yeah?" he said softly, wanting to hold her.

She nodded and sat down. "Bye," she said, looking quiet forlorn.

She was alone with her thoughts, which was not a big deal in and of it self - if she were at home; in her clean smelling comfortable home; however she was not, she was here, sheathed by the smell of urine.

After hours of thinking about books she read, leads upon which she had yet to follow through, and paperwork on her desk, her thoughts floated towards Ron.

He still spoke with his mouth full and he was a slob, but he always smelled so …masculine. Not bad masculine, _good_ masculine –Sandalwood spice.

She inhaled as if she could smell him and then grimaced immediately as the foul odors assaulted her nostrils.

He was tall and thick, muscular. He didn't have an ounce of fat on him… well none of them did really. They trained all the time and Hermione ran in the evenings, but Ron was not slender or fine boned like Draco and Harry, he was beefy and in his presence, she felt protected.

His hands were large and calloused. She was a hand girl; small feminine hands belonged on women not men.

He was unassuming and gentle. His smile lit up his face in boyish excitement.

He had clear blue eyes the color of the sky on a sunny day.

Confidence poured off his person in waves, such a contradiction to his teenaged uncertainty.

His voice held a low timber, not as silky as Severus, but a nice baritone.

He wasn't afraid to laugh or act silly; he could always make her laugh.

He had full pink lips, straight white teeth and always minty breath.

She sighed and looked around. She might as well make herself comfortable; it's going to be a long night.


	3. A Spoonful of Sugar

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

_Need You Now_

_She was walking slowly towards the lake. It was warm and a breeze was blowing her long hair over her face, making the person sitting against the large tree unrecognizable for the moment._

_As she neared the figure, it stood to face her. "Remus," she whispered to herself. Her breath caught and she stopped walking afraid to move lest he disappear._

_He smiled at her and beckoned her closer._

"_Hermione," he said with a smile._

_She flew into his arms and squeezed him as hard as she could._

"_Can't. Breathe." _

"_Oh sorry." She was crying now. "Why… What?" she couldn't think of the right thing to say so overcome with joy, at the moment. He was here, in the flesh and blood, here with her. She decided she never wanted to leave._

"_So, jail, huh?" he said with a hint of teasing in his eyes._

"_Yeah, some scheme Moody came up with, I will be working at a topless bar," she told him exasperation in her voice._

"_I've missed you," he said quietly._

_She looked at him. "I've missed you, too. I love you, don't leave me," she said anguish apparent in her tone._

"_We need to talk," he said, looking into her teary eyes. "Come, sit with me." _

_They sat next to the tree and he pulled her onto his lap, like he usually did when they were together. _

_He would tell her he liked the way her weight felt on him, it gave him purpose he said. She'd just roll her eyes at him and smile, loving that he wanted her this close him._

"_You must let me go, Hermione. You can't keep pining for me and using Ron as a surrogate. Find love and don't let go." _

"_Wow, talk about getting right to the point, huh?" she snorted, but wouldn't look at him._

"_I don't have much time and I want you to know that I love you. That I will always love you, but it was my time. I'm OK – I have friends here, Hermione," he said, looking up the hill._

_She followed his gaze and smiled. James and Lily Potter were smiling at the couple along with Sirius, who was waving._

_Her breath hitched loudly, almost a sob, at the sight. She nodded and hugged him closer._

"_How much time do you have?" she asked quietly._

"_Enough time to do this." He kissed her softly._

_His tongue slid across her bottom lip, requesting entrance. Her lips parted instantly, she sucked and nipped his tongue, causing him to moan. Gently, he moved his hands to lift her small body so that she was straddling him._

"_Sirius and …" she murmured against his lips._

_He smiled. "They're gone." And deepened the kiss._

_Before she knew it she was naked and he was pressing into her. "Oh! I really missed this," she said, sighing._

_He was trailing aggressive kisses down her neck onto her shoulder, biting her collarbone._

"_Yessss, please don't stop, I'm so close…" she said her head dropping backwards._

"_Hermione… Hermione… AAAHHHH!" he stiffened and grasped her hips roughly._

_They climaxed together, their moans filling each others mouths._

_After a few moments she looked down to find that she was fully clothed again and standing._

"_Please don't go." She was crying again, reaching for him, but he was already almost to the top of the hill._

_He waved and smiled at her, blowing a good bye kiss._

"_REMUS!" she yelled, but couldn't move._

She opened her eyes and sat bolt upright. She was sweating and panting and someone was yelling at her.

"Will you shut up, Granger?"

She looked around and realized where she was. _I guess I dozed off_, she thought and narrowed her eyes at the angry Auror, standing at her cell door.

"What time is it?" she asked curtly.

"Three am and I would like to get a bit of shut eye," he snapped at her.

"You're on duty, supposed to stay awake – constantly vigilant, remember?" she chided with authority.

She recognized his voice. He was one of her Aurors. Hermione, Ron, Harry and Draco all had junior Aurors, who reported directly to them and this man was one of hers.

"Thanks, but your scary boss voice doesn't do anything for me now, so save it for someone who hasn't lost all respect for you," he said snidely his eyes roving over her body. "Although, there is something I've always wondered about you."

"Oh?" she said mentally kicking herself for even responding. _Damn her curious nature_!

He smiled and pulled his wand out. "What you looked like under your robes."

_Oh shit._

He unlocked the door and walked in, shutting it behind him.

"I have always wondered what your skin feels like, what you look like when you cum. What it would take to turn you into a wildcat in bed. I imagine not a whole lot, being that you're already a fiery wench," he said with a glint in his eye.

"You'll never know, Boggs," she told him flatly, hoping that her nonchalance would be off-putting.

Then he did something incredibly stupid. She couldn't believe it and if she were anyone else she would have stood there mouth agape, gawking at his complete lack of intelligent thought and precautionary measures.

He took off his outer robes and dropped his wand on top of them.

Harry had taken her wand so she couldn't use magic, but she was exceptionally well-versed in hand to hand combat and the only person to best her was Ron. Most of the time it was because she let him, liking the feel of him wrapped around her. She suspected he knew this.

She focused back to the man in front of her. He had dirty blonde hair that hung limply above his shoulder. His hair cut reminded her of little boys mothers' placing a bowl on top of their heads and cutting their hair around it.

He had common blue eyes, thin lips and a narrow nose. He wasn't particularly good looking, though he wasn't hideous either.

He had a thin frame with a burgeoning belly that protruded over his belt. She figured it would only get larger as he aged. He was tall, but not as tall as Draco, Harry or Ron; they were a full head taller than this man. He was only tall because she was short.

He was older, in his thirties and did not attend Hogwarts; instead his parents opted for a smaller American Academy of Wizardry in Salem, Alabama. Because of the time he spent in America's South his accent sometimes held a minor twang.

"If you take another step towards me, Boggs, you will regret it," she told him her face expressionless her body relaxed, but standing.

He smiled at her again. She noticed his teeth were crooked and yellowing; he took the step.

She quirked an eyebrow and in three seconds she had him pinned. He was on the floor, screaming bloody murder. Her knee was in the middle of his back and his arm chicken winged near his shoulder blades.

She was pretty sure she'd broken his nose. She hadn't meant to, but he moved forward a little and she didn't pull her punches…so… the flat heel of her hand planted solidly against the bridge of his nose in an upwards stroke.

"Will you be leaving me alone tonight?" she asked sweetly and pulled his arm up further.

He screamed again and answered her, "YES! YES! I will leave you alone."

She smirked and pulled up on his arm again just for good measure.

He screamed again.

She let him go and backed up quickly, waiting for him to make another move.

He didn't; grabbing his cloak and wand, he backed out of the cell with his head backward to keep the blood from pouring out of his face by the gallons.

CLINK! The cell door was shut and locked.

"Just… keep it down in here, Granger," he said and left walking towards the bathroom.

It was not in her nature to just quietly obey, so instead of settling back down for the remainder of the night, she started singing.

She also wanted to keep from thinking about her dream with Remus and his confusing message. She held back a sob and started wailing the most annoying song she could think of.

_In ev'ry job that must be done; There is an element of fun; You find the fun and snap!  
The job's a game  
And ev'ry task you undertake; Becomes a piece of cake; A lark! A spree! It's very clear to see that  
A Spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down  
The medicine go down-wown  
The medicine go down  
Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down in a most delightful way_

By the time 6:45 had rolled around she was onto _'99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall'_.

Draco, Harry and Ron walked in and immediately cringed. Draco placed his hands over his ears in an attempt to dull the noise.

"What the hell is that?" Harry asked, frowning and looking around for answers.

"It sounds like a cat burning alive!" Draco said his eyes going squinty.

Rons eyes narrowed as he watched Boggs turn his head away from them and motion nonchalantly towards the cell Hermione was kept.

"She's been at it since three," muttered the other Auror. He was currently massaging his head as if he had a migraine…he probably did if he had to listen to this all night.

"Oi, Boggs! What's with your face?" Ron asked.

The other Auror smiled. "Boggs got a little fresh with the prisoner before she taught him to keep his hands to himself."

Ron was about to pummel Boggs when Harry, now alarmed, held him back.

When Boggs turned around his eyes were blackened and he had tissue stuck up his nostrils to contain the blood flow.

"How you have put up with her for all these years is beyond me," Boggs said exasperated by being put down by his former boss.

Ron was about to speak, but Harry just smirked and pulled him to follow Draco towards the caterwauling. There were now twenty bottles of beer on the wall.

Draco reached the holding cell first. "HERMIONE!"

The singing stopped abruptly.

It was 8:15 and the Wizengamot was deliberating her sentence.

"What's taking so long?" she asked Moody.

He looked at her with his one eye that could see through all things. "We only have one elder there, who knows what's going on. He has to keep you out of Azkaban."

She was silent.

Finally, the courts bailiff came out and called for them to enter.

Madame Rollins presided. "Miss Granger, due to your service during the war and your stellar record as an Auror up until now, we have decided to allow you time served. You will not regain your title as Auror and your wand has been limited for basic magical use only. You will get a list of spells you will be able to perform; all others will not be reinstated until six months has passed without incident. You may go."

CLACK! The gavel sounded and the audience rose to exit the court room._  
_***

Back in Moody's office, the four sat and Moody leaned up against the edge of his desk in front of them. "We will meet back here at nine pm." He looked at Hermione. "Severus will be here, too." She nodded and looked at her friends.

"I'll see you tonight, then," she said and walked out the door.

All she wanted to do was take a bath and get some sleep. She made a mental note to drink some dreamless sleep potion.

The four men waited until she left. "Will she be OK through this?" Moody asked them.

Draco nodded and smiled. "When we got there this morning, she was yelling at the top of her lungs some beer bottle song. Boggs and Groden said she'd been at it all night."

Moody smiled and shook his head.

"Boggs also got a little touchy feely with her," Harry said.

Moody's head snapped up anger in his eyes. "What happened?"

"She broke his nose and floored him. He said he was pretty sure she pulled his back out, too," Ron said, smirking.

The men laughed and stood to leave. The door clicked shut to the sound of Moody's full bodied guffaw at the thought of her pinning Boggs to the floor and not letting him up until he said 'Uncle'.

She woke up, pleasantly rested, at 8:30 pm. She put her feet on the floor and let the haze of sleep lift before she stood up.

After brushing her teeth and throwing her hair in a ponytail, she was ready to get dressed.

_A pair of jeans and a t-shirt oughtta do it_; she thought. She pulled out a pair of dark, but worn skinny jeans that rode low on her hips, fading a little at the knees and back pockets and a pink t-shirt that fit her snugly, ending just as her jeans began, any movement would reveal her white skin underneath.

She giggled at the shirt –her favorite – it read in black letters:

_**Well I'm here. What were your other two wishes?**_

She slipped her feet into hot pink flats and walked out.

Arriving right on time, she knocked twice and opened the door, everyone was there already. _She was losing her touch, she was usually early_. Even Draco I'm-usually-fashionably-late Malfoy beat her there.

"Miss Granger."

"Professor."

He gave her a look in response to calling him professor, but didn't speak.

"Let's get started then," Moody said quickly. "What's the first step, Severus?"

"Well, I think it would be best if Miss Granger came in later on tonight and got drunk, acting like she just lost everything. Can you do that, Miss Granger?"

She looked at him seductively and leaned forward. "I can act any way you want me to, _Professor,_" she said her voice dropping an octave, making it alluring and sexual; placing emphasis on the word professor.

He quirked an eyebrow.

The boys were a little surprised.

'_Sex Kitten'_ popped into Draco's mind. She just shocked the shit out of him; he had never seen her like this, though the surprise didn't register on his face. He looked at his roommates.

Ron shifted uncomfortably and Harry just stared at her with wide eyes.

Severus continued. "You will need to get into a fight, which shouldn't be too difficult; your mere presence unnerves the most robust of dispositions, present company included. Disrupt a few tables, spill some drinks. I will hire you under the guise of you paying me back for repairs. That should quell any suspicious minds," he told the group and then continued, "I will see you back at the bar in two hours. Gentlemen." He acknowledged the Aurors then left, robes billowing.

They all looked at each other and Hermione spoke, "Well, I should eat something before I go, get drunk and pick a fight with someone."

They smirked and called a house elf to bring some Chinese food. She stretched her lip at calling a house elf, but didn't put up a fuss.

They all ate in Moody's office. Laughing, joking and having a good time… even Moody enjoyed it.

At five minutes to eleven, Moody broke the good mood. "It's time," he said.

She looked down and said, "I shouldn't have worn these shoes, they'll get scuffed."

Harry laughed. "I'm sure they'll be fine... and so will you," He said, looking into her eyes, giving her unspoken support and adoration.

She nodded and hugged each of them like it was her last time seeing them.

"I'll walk you out," Ron said.

When they reached the outer doors to the apparition point, he pulled her into a hug. "Don't do anything stupid," he said and relished the feel of her small body pressed against his, her arms around his waist. He pulled back to look at her, just making sure she got the message of being safe. What he found there surprised him... kind of.

They locked gazes. His arms tightened around her; her fingers crawled up his chest and made their way into the scruff of his hair at the nape of his neck. His breath became quietly labored and her hips pressed forward ever so subtley.

She felt his desire and he swallowed, hoping this was the beginning… alas, it was not to be; some Auror came running out, calling Hermione's name, "Oi! You forgot your wand from property," he said, handing it to Hermione.

They pulled away from each other. "er..thanks," she said and looked back at Ron.

"Ok, well... see you later." With that she offered him a small smile and walked out the door. He could hear the faint POP of her Apparating.

He sighed. "Bye."


	4. American History

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

She Apparated to the apparition point and walked south for two blocks. She was familiar with this location as an Auror, but now that she was no longer… as far as everyone else was concerned, she was a bit tense at the idea of walking by herself.

She rounded a corner and saw the neon lights of the bar she was to drown her sorrows in and pick a fight. She sighed, looking up at the sign. It pictured a standard black pointed witches hat, sitting on a faceless, but rather shapely witch; really the only thing that drew the eyes were the hat and the skin tight shirt over large breasts. The sign flashed again and the large breasts were bared.

She reared back. _Great Circe! The place was just tacky,_ she thought mildly horrified at the sight.

The door opened into a holding area: a coat check, if you will, with a receptionist.

Said receptionist looked up from flipping through a magazine, and chewing gum like a cow chewing cud. She smiled. "That will be fifteen Galleons and your wand, please," she chirped.

"Fifteen Galleons? And why do you need my wand?" Hermione barked rather put out.

The girl stopped smiling, but continued to chew. "Fifteen Galleons. I don't set the rules, I just enforce them and everyone must leave their wands at the door. Some of the patrons can get rather rambunctious and the manager, Mr. Snape, prefers to ensure irreversible magical damage and any unforgivables that may be intended are effectively prevented. So, your wand please."

Hermione thought the girl sounded like she was reading off of a card, but then decided that Professor Snape probably stood over her, making her memorize that little speech.

Hermione nodded, it made sense. She handed her wand over to the cow…uh girl, and dropped fifteen Galleons on the counter. Her wand was placed in a small cardboard box and sealed with a taped ticket. Hermione was handed the other end of the ticket and the door opened.

"Have a nice evening, Miss," the girl/cow said in parting.

Hermione nodded and managed a small smile.

She walked in slowly, to a runway type stage. It actually resembled a penis with its two small round counterparts. The long stage with a pole at the end had two rounded stages with a pole in the middle of each.

Currently three girls were 'dancing'. Two were on their backs on the ground, swinging their legs this way and that and the third was twirling around the pole like she was bored. The music was uninspiring and the mood was heavy.

The bar was to the left, so that's where she went.

She sat down. "What can I get ya?' the bartender asked without looking up.

"Firewhiskey... on the rocks, please."

Her soft voice surprised the barman, because he looked up and stared at the young woman.

"Are you…?" he asked.

"Thirsty? Yes. A Firewhiskey on the rocks, please," she repeated.

"Coming right up," he said after he had snapped out of his surprise.

He set the drink down and looked at her for a second. He was about to walk away when she spoke, "Keep them coming."

He nodded and walked away to wipe the counter.

After her third Firewhiskey, she looked at the glass in front of her; it was empty again. She was about the signal for another when she felt a presence beside her.

"Miss Granger, fancy meeting you here. I heard about your unexpected termination. My condolences, though I am quite surprised to find someone of your… moral hygiene in a place such as this; come to drink your sorrows away?" he asked smoothly

She smirked; she knew that voice. "Mr. Malfoy, I could pose the same question to you. Besides, I didn't notice any 'Pureblood Only' signs up anywhere, so I have as much right to be here as you do, sir," she quipped, turning to look at him.

He smiled. It was a nice smile she thought. _No wonder people fell under his charms, conversation with him was disarming. Even at the department of mysteries he was polite_. She shook her head and stared back into her drink.

He handled his glass. "Well, we would never be so gauche as to blatantly display anything as tasteless as that. You are even allowed to use the same water fountains… we are very progressive wouldn't you say?" he asked, taking a drink.

She actually laughed. "Progressive? Yes, worshipping a Dark Lord that wishes genocide upon those who can't explain their magical beginnings. Definitely progressive, Mr. Malfoy; though I am impressed by your reference to the American Jim Crow laws of the 1950's and '60's. Well played, Mr. Malfoy, well played," she commented.

He signaled the barman for another round. She watched as his elegant fingers lifted in the sign for two.

"Yes, well I am an educated man after all." He took another swallow of his drink, finishing it. "Always so respectful, Miss Granger, one could presume that the reason you are so respectful to me, given our history, is because you believe the unwritten hierarchy of blood status."

"…or one could presume that I was raised right as even the lowly Muggles teach manners to their children, Mr. Malfoy."

He smiled and Hermione thought it seemed almost genuine. "You know, Miss Granger, I like you much better when you've been drinking," he said.

She smiled and he thought it seemed almost genuine. "You know, Mr. Malfoy, I like _you_ much better when _I've_ been drinking," she told him.

He laughed at her remark and downed remainder of his whiskey.

Just as she was about to take her leave – he was much too close for comfort- Severus Snape made his presence known.

"Lucius. Miss Granger," he greeted.

"Severus."

"Professor," she said.

He grunted in response and motioned for another drink.

"We were just discussing the finer points of American History and Muggle manners," Lucius informed his longtime friend.

"You don't say," Severus said his tone dripping with disdain.

Hermione decided to change the subject. "Professor, you need to spice this place up. The music is boring, the dancers are not dancing and the patrons are just sitting there like lumps on logs. You need to find a better D.J. and organize these women," she said, looking around.

He looked at her with what she assumed was his version of a smirk and said, "Well, I will let the owner know, Miss Granger," he said this sharing a knowing look with Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius smirked.

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You own this place?" she asked him.

"I do."

Before he could say more the trio was approached by a dirty haired wizard. He was missing teeth and he smelled foul.

"Malfoy. Snape," he sneered.

"McNair," the men replied in unison with the same bored tone.

"Who have we here?" he asked, making the trio cringe at the smell of his breath.

"Hermione Granger," she said, giving the man an I-dare-you type of glare.

He smiled. Hermione thought for a split second that he should really think about seeing a dentist.

"Well, Well, Well what a treat this is, wouldn't you say, Malfoy?"

Lucius responded by sneering at the man. "You are interrupting, McNair, this is a conversation for people with functioning brains," he insulted.

Hermione knew this was it. She looked down to her shoes. "I shouldn't have worn these shoes," she said aloud, making all three men give her a quizzical look.

To Hermione, Lucius bowed, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. She didn't pull back. "I'm not sure I understood you correctly, but your shoes are nice. They were a good choice. It was a pleasure, Miss Granger. I hope you will grant me another conversation at another time. Until then, I will take my leave. Severus." Lucius turned without giving McNair a parting word and left the building.

Severus gave Hermione a knowing look at the opportunity that McNair presented and walked away, leaving her to face the man alone.

He let the men into his small foyer.

"Where is she?" Draco asked a little unnerved at being there.

"Upstairs. She looks pretty bad. I didn't heal her, yet, as once she was cleaned up, she fell right to sleep."

"Who was it?" Harry asked.

"McNair," Severus said with a growl.

"Can we see her?" Ron asked not liking that she was here without him to comfort her.

"I'm here," she said from the top of the stairs.

She was wearing a large t-shirt – one of Snapes- and carrying her shoes in one of her hands. She held the scuffed pair of pink flats up for them to see. "I shouldn't have worn these shoes," she said.

Severus rolled his eyes.

They couldn't see her very well as she was making her way down stairs. They all gasped when she came into the light.

One eye was swollen shut, she had a fat lip with a nasty cut, her other eye was starting to blacken and her cheek was bruised. She had numerous scratches down her arms, bruises on her knees and one nasty scrape running up her thigh, under her shirt.

Ron pushed through and walked up to her; he stopped right in front of her and grabbed her for a hug. Though, he immediately let go when she hissed in pain.

"She has a large bruise on her back and a burn on her side," Severus added, walking into the living room.

"Yeah, well you should see the other guy," she said, smiling…kind of.

The three men looked at Severus as if to confirm that she did indeed at least get one lick in. "Yes. McNair was unconscious when she came stumbling back in."

With this bit of information, Draco smiled.

"So now what?" she asked, wincing as she sat.

"Tomorrow we go back in and you plead with me not to tell the authorities. I tell you that you must work it off and you agree. Then I heal you and fix everything magically. Then… well, then you do whatever it is you do, Miss Granger."

"I'm wearing your shirt, Professor, you should call me Hermione."

He nodded. "Then, please call me Severus; I haven't been your professor in quite some time."

Ron just looked at her.

Their eyes met, his pleading, hers wanting him to wrap his arms around her.

"I'm going to go back home, gentlemen. Severus, May I Floo from here?"

Ron was waiting for her when she stepped in, she wasn't sure how he got there before she did, but he did.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

She nodded and took his arm, leading him to her bed. Tonight they would sleep and tomorrow she would work in a club with topless dancers.

He lay down beside her on top of the comforter and wrapped her up in his strong arms, hoping she couldn't feel the tears that fell from his eyes.


	5. Oh How the Mighty Have Fallen

She popped one eye open; her good one, and groaned. She felt like she'd been hit by a bus. She stopped trying to move and instead she gingerly pulled her comforter up to cover her shoulders. It wouldn't budge so she pulled harder, still wouldn't budge. She mentally checked to see if all of her limbs were not on the outside, preventing it from doing what she wanted.

Nope, her body was warm under the covers… except for her shoulders.

That's when she felt it; the hot breath on her cheek and the heavy bar, holding her in place around her waist.

She opened the good eye again and turned her head slowly. There, wrapped around her like a package string, was Ron Weasely; her partner, her friend, her love interest.

She sighed. _He must have fallen asleep, _she thought with a curve of her lips_._

She closed her good eye and just enjoyed the moment. She must have woken him, though, because she felt him stirring a second later then he sat bolt upright a second after that.

She could feel him looking at her and then she felt the feathery light touches of his fingertips brush across her cheek.

He eased out of bed and tip toed to the bathroom.

He walked out to find her watching him. "Morning, sunshine," he said with a falsely cheerful tone.

He looked like he was physically in pain.

"What's wrong?" she croaked. Her throat hurt from yesterday. McNair had tried to choke her with a shoelace, but it broke before he succeeded. It was almost comical the way he cursed and howled when it broke; like the Gods above were playing some cosmic joke on him – when he finally had the opportunity to best the mighty Gryffindor, a technicality prevented him from following through. Ridiculous.

Ron cleared his throat. "Nothing," he said, looking at his shoes now.

She realized that she must look simply awful.

"How… How do you feel?" he asked still not looking at her.

"Like I was hit by a bus and left for dead." Her voice was getting better now.

"You look like you were hit by a bus," he said with the humor returning to his eyes.

Then he spoke again. "I'm sorry, I meant to go, but I fell asleep I guess… I'll just…" he looked sheepish and embarrassed; he ended the incomplete sentiment with an arm gesture that indicated he would leave now.

"No. Why not stay for coffee? You guys don't report for work until six pm, right? To wait for me to make my big entrance?" she was making jokes now.

"Right… but the guys are probably wondering where I am and I need a shower, so…"

Her smile faded and she nodded. He Disapparated on the spot, with a soft POP.

A silent tear made its way down her cheek, of course he wouldn't stay. He only came to her, because he felt sorry for her anyway. Why was she crying? This was stupid. She knew that she was dirty and broken, he deserved better. She wiped angrily at the offending tear and stood very slowly, trying not to anger her aching body. She walked to the bathroom for her morning ablutions.

POP!

The two men sitting at the kitchen table were hunched over soggy cereal and steaming cups of coffee. They startled a bit when Ron appeared, but didn't make any other outward recognition of the sudden intrusion.

Ron walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He sat down at the table. Many would think that three bachelors, residing in the same house would neglect to use the dining table for anything but papers, junk food containers and random strewn clothes, but these boys were raised with impeccable manners… at least where dining tables were concerned.

Harry spoke first. "So, did it happen?"

Draco put the spoon down and picked his head and coffee up in interest.

Ron ran a hand through his tousled hair. "No."

After a few moments of silence and Harry and Draco waiting for Ron to elaborate, Draco got annoyed. "Well, what did happen? You stayed all night this time."

"I fell asleep. She is just so …comfortable to me. I woke up this morning and she looked…" he couldn't say it. He felt like his heart was torn in two when he saw her beautiful face marred.

"She looked that bad, huh?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded, but then looked at them mistaking the intent of the question. "I mean it doesn't matter what she looks like, it was just that I felt… feel like I want to seriously harm McNair for hurting her." He paused. "She woke up making jokes, asked me to stay for coffee, but I couldn't," he said, shaking his head slowly, wrapping his hands around his coffee cup to keep them from fisting.

"You couldn't?" Draco asked almost spitting his coffee out on the love sick red head he called a roommate.

Apparently Harry was just as surprised. "You've been pining over her for how many years? You were waiting for her to invite you in, when she was sober, mind you, and when she does, you decline?"

"I just couldn't, she hasn't wanted me for anything more than a friend for the entire time I've known her and she doesn't now. I want her to feel the way I do. When I'm around her I can't breathe; it hurts so much to be around her and pretend that I don't love her with everything I am. I just couldn't this morning, I just couldn't," he finished with his head bent down in shame.

"You really don't see it, do you?" Draco said this with frustration written all over his face.

Ron looked up confused. "See what?" he barked back, not liking being scolded or having someone, especially this platinum haired Slytherin someone, imply he was stupid.

Harry shook his head sadly at his longtime friend. "Open your eyes, mate." Was the only thing he said before walking away from the table.

Ron was left alone with his thoughts and his cooling coffee.

*** (**A/N: plain font indicates Hermiones actual conversation and **_**Italics**_** indicate the boys' reaction to said conversation**.)

The three wizards hadn't spoken the rest of the day, but at a quarter to six, they came together.

"Ready?" Draco asked the other two; they both nodded and together they Apparated to an apparition point three blocks away from the surveillance point.

They disillusioned themselves with a tweaked charm that Hermione created. It erased any shimmer or magical trace and allowed them to see each other; it was similar to an invisibility bubble, but they had to say the charm together and stay within close proximity to each other or the spell would be broken.

They walked to the bench that would act as their comfort point during their stakeouts. It was directly across from the bar where Hermione would work undercover.

They turned the radio's on and could immediately hear Hermione, "Testing, testing one-two-three. Send a spark if you can hear me." She laughed at her rhyme and then looked to the sky; a blue spark was sent, dissipating quickly.

She was close to the door. "OK then, here we go."

She pulled the door open and walked in. There was no one at the wand check desk so she proceeded to the main area.

"Severus?" she called out for there wasn't anyone in the main area either.

She walked to the bar and sat, "Severus?" she called louder.

She waited, thankful that sitting didn't make her body ache even more than it was.

He came striding out of the back room and smirked at her broken appearance. "Miss Granger," he said.

She looked around until her eyes met his. "I like what you've done with the place," she joked.

"Yes, well…"

"I came to apologize and help clean up," she said, noticing several pairs of eyes peeping around the curtain in the back.

"Apology accepted and you can help clean up if your wand allows you to perform the necessary spells, but for the trouble you caused, you will also work here for a time," he told her.

She looked at the bar. "I don't know any mixed drinks, but I'm a quick learner."

He looked pensive. "Not as a bartender, Miss Granger." He looked pointedly at the poles along the stages.

She gasped (acting of course), "You mean as a…."

"Dancer," he finished for her.

"I…. I can't," she said, pretending to be scandalized.

They both heard the gasps and snickers coming from behind the curtain.

"You can, Miss Granger, and you will," he said. "You can start this evening."

She just looked at him mouth agape.

"Mary Ann!" he yelled sharply.

A small brunette, wearing a cheap satin-y robe came walking quickly from behind the curtain. "Yes, sir?" she asked, looking at Severus.

"This is Hermione Granger; she will be working here for a while and I want you to show her the ropes."

She looked at Hermione, up and down, and then back to her scowling boss. "Yes, sir."

Hermione stood and held her hand out to the small woman. "Hermione Granger."

Mary Ann took the proffered hand. "Mary Ann Maloy."

The two women shared a smile and walked to the back.

Severus pulled out his wand and set right the havoc that Hermione and McNair caused last night, during their out and out brawl.

"Hermione this is Jenna, BriAnne, Margot, Lisa, Bella, Trudy and Denise. We are on for tonight, but there are five other girls who dance here as well. The schedules are rotated so we have regular nights off." She turned to the other dancers. "Girls, this is Hermione Granger."

"As in THE Hermione Granger?" Margot asked.

_Snickering from the boys– Hermione always got that question, as if there were loads of other Hermione Grangers wondering around_.

"Yes," Hermione answered.

Mary Ann spoke again. "The bar opens in a half hour and it always feels like the customers are lined up around the corner, waiting for the doors to open."

Jenna was eyeing Hermione and the former Auror didn't like it. "Is something wrong?" she asked, trying not to snap at the girl.

Jenna blinked and sneered a little. "I was just thinking: oh, how the mighty have fallen."

_Ouch! The boys cringed._

"This coming from someone, who was never mighty," Hermione leveled at the girl.

The other girls cringed.

_Good One. Draco said smirking._

"Okay, well let's get you a vanity space, then," Mary Ann said not wanting a full on row to occur. She had seen first-hand what THE Hermione Granger did to the smelly guy, it wasn't pretty.

They found one. Hermione was told that tonight she would be waiting tables, but not dancing. She would need to bring her own make-up and if she wanted an outfit other than what they had here, she would need to either bring it in herself or request for Mr. Snape to buy it.

Hermione wanted to laugh: first, the 'outfits' were barely pieces of cloth tied together with strings and second, 'Mr.' Snape… now that was funny, she thought.

She was also monumentally relieved that she would not be dancing tonight, but only waiting tables… well she was relieved until she found out that she would need to don one of the 'outfits' to wait tables.

She looked through them and decided on a bathing suit top that resembled a tankini and a very mini skirt. She refused to wear the ridiculously high, high heels with the outfit, opting instead for her trainers.

She felt stupid.

She walked out to find Severus sitting at the bar, watching the patrons enter when she caught his eye.

He was floored; she looked good enough to eat… if she would just stop fidgeting.

He wanted to laugh at her trainers, but he just shook his head at her instead.

"What?" she asked him already knowing.

"Trainers?"

"Sorry, but I can't wear those things for hours and try to balance trays of drinks, too," she said with a bit of exasperation

He nodded. "I've not been able to comprehend how they do it," he said, motioning, with a jerk of his head towards the dancers.

"So this is it, then," she said more to herself than to him.

"This is it, Hermione. You'll be alright, just grab a tray and walk to a table, but don't forget the customers surrounding the stages."

She nodded still looking at the customers filing in.

"Lucius would like you to 'spice things up' as you so eloquently put it yesterday, so I will introduce you to the D.J. and meet with you and the girls after work tonight; he has also approved for you to have a small budget for clothing. Is this agreeable?" he asked.

She was pleased, at least she would have a tangible purpose; not that catching bad guys wasn't tangible, but… She stopped and looked at her 'boss'. "I didn't ask for a budget, was that your idea?"

"We spoke this morning and both thought it would be a good idea," he said.

"Thank you," she said sincerely and gave him a warm smile. He thought she was radiant and made it his mission to see that smile more often.

_She gets money to shop for clothes? Harry remarked._

_Skimpy ones, at that, Ron said, shaking his head._

_We should 'help' her with that, maybe she'll model them for us. Draco said slyly_

_Eeeaaa-sssy. Ron said half joking with Draco and half not._

_Harry laughed at the exchange and Ron's flippant possession. _

Four hours into her shift she got her first trouble customer. Most of the first half of her shift was uneventful, many recognized her, but didn't speak to her other than to order a drink; in fact, many didn't even look at her again once they recognized her.

A tall, lanky wizard with dirty blonde hair and watery blue eyes sat down in her section.

Hermione walked over with her pad and pen. "What can I get you?" she asked.

He looked up at her, back down at the table, and then sharply back up at her. The equivalent of a double take.

"Are you Hermione Granger?" he asked, looking her in the eyes.

She opened her mouth to answer, but he interrupted, "YOU ARE! I read all about your recent …deviation from law enforcing bad ass to public enemy number one. My, how the mighty have fallen," he said his tone laced with smug satisfaction.

"So I hear. Are you drinking tonight?" she asked flatly.

"Firewhiskey."

When she returned with his drink he spoke again, "I never realized what a delicious little bottom you had hiding under your Auror robes," he said.

She was focused on his face and didn't notice his other hand coming up between her legs until it reached her inner thigh and squeezed.

She yelped and jumped back. She was going to use physical force to render the man speechless, but at the last second, realized she needed to neutralize the situation. "There is no touching any of the female employees here, sir. If you touch me again, I will be forced to call my boss and you can deal with him," she said authoritatively.

He just smiled at her and set a Galleon on the table, requiring her to bend down a little to pick it up. Her eyes never left his, but his roved her body lasciviously, which made her stomach turn.

The next two hours were pure torture; he would call her over, say something raunchy and then reach up to touch her.

All in all, he touched her inner thigh, slapped her arse, brushed the side of her breast and palmed her bare stomach. She finally got sick of it and spoke to Severus.

"He won't stop touching me, Severus. I will not be held accountable for my actions if he continues. Now do something about it or I will," she told him in no uncertain terms.

_That's it, I'm going in. No one should be touching her! What the hell is Snape doing in there! Ron nearly shouted. Draco and Harry were restraining the large red head when finally Severus' and Hermiones' conversation resumed._

"Very well, Hermione." Severus stood and walked gracefully to the prat harassing her.

She watched him sit at the table and lean in to speak to the man quietly. The man stiffened, nodded his head and didn't call her again for the remainder of the night.

When the bar closed at three am, she cornered her former professor. "What did you say to that guy?"

"I told him if he touched you again, I would kill him and bury him where no one would ever find the body. He knows who I am; there was no need to prove myself." He shrugged and gathered the girls around.

She snorted and shook her head, happy that they were allies instead of having THE Severus Snape as an enemy, she was pretty sure she wouldn't wish that on anyone… well, maybe a few people.

"Ladies, and I use that term loosely…" they all glared at him after that, but he only smirked. "We will be making some changes around here, so please listen to what Hermione says and follow her lead. If you have questions, ask her, not me, I'm not interested in your petty squabbles." At that he left.

Hermione just watched him go, annoyed that he was so abrupt. She turned back to her audience. "I wanted to spice things up and was hoping that you would help me."

She waited for that to sink in and started talking, "I would like to change the music to more upbeat tunes. I think putting on a 'show', like the girl groups do in bands, would be inspiring and would make us a lot more money. We wouldn't be singing we would be dancing, obviously, and Severus and Lucius have allowed me a small budget to work with for costumes and such." She paused again to let the surprise at her dropping Lucius Malfoy's name pass then continued, "I would love to hear what ideas you have and music suggestions, both Muggle and wizard, so what do you say?" she asked hopeful that they would agree.

After a moment, many smiled and all of the nodded their heads in agreement.

Hermione smiled back. "Okay, then, the first 'show' will be in exactly one month and I would like to start with a group of four ladies to the song Lady Marmalade by Pink, Mya, Christinia Aguilara and Missy Elliot. It's a Muggle song, but fun…" she was interrupted by Jenna of all people. "I know it. I like it, good choice, oh mighty one," she teased and Hermione smiled at her joke. She was beginning to like Jenna.

_Lady Marmalade? That's some song, Harry said_

_What do you mean? Draco asked_

_It's about a hooker. Harry replied_

_Ron just groaned._


	6. Son of a Preacher Man

As promised, Hermione organized and worked with the girls. She liked many of them and realized her assumption that they were all cheap whores was a horribly wrong generalization.

They each practiced routines, bought new outfits and gave music to the D.J.

Hermione had been able to get out of dancing, so far, so she donned her 'usual' Daisy Duke shorts with a pretty camisole and served drinks.

In order to prepare for her first 'number', she took up belly dancing lessons. Something she hadn't told the boys about. No one knew except Severus and he had laughed at her telling her that she hadn't changed in all the years he'd known her; always needed to be prepared. This discussion was after hours so she hadn't been wearing her recording device.

Another strange occurrence that resulted from her working at this establishment was her continual dialogue with the bars' owner.

Much of the time, she found herself surrounded by both Severus and Lucius, talking about the current political climate of whatever country was in the news that week, or about equal rights for magical creatures, or engaging in Monday morning quarterback discussions regarding the war with the Dark Lord, or about fashion tragedies – though Severus didn't usually stick around for those.

It was a strange accord that formed in light of her fall from grace.

She also started feeling … sexy. She danced on the floor when a good song came on, she sat in her customers laps while she took their order, as long as they didn't make lewd comments or touch her, she was happy to do it.

It made her feel wanted, desired.

Lucius and Severus watched her with interested eyes and wondered at the multifaceted Hermione Granger; a know-it-all swot in school, a ferocious soldier during the war, a heartbroken recluse for a time after Lupin died, a hard charging Auror and now she was a happy sex , who whipped the 'dancers' into shape.

Lucius was impressed. He found himself arriving here more and more. Before she was hired, Lucius rarely made time to check in. He trusted Severus to run the bar and didn't feel the need to make an appearance.

As luck… or not, would have it, the night that Lucius first spoke to Miss Granger, was when he had had to sign the divorce papers. His wife of thirty years had decided that enough was enough.

He was expecting it, but still, it saddened him to know that she could no longer stomach his presence. He knew he'd made mistakes, big ones, but he had loved her.

His thoughts fell into the memories they had together, when they found out they were pregnant after almost three years of trying. It was such a happy time, but what did he do, barely made it home, wasn't even their for Draco's arrival.

Draco. He missed him more than anything. He had really fucked things up. Miss Granger was the closest thing he had to Draco – as strange as it was, she reminded him of Draco.

Miss Granger was the light at the end of his dark tunnel. He looked forward to her conversation, her light teasing and her smile. He knew that she was friends with Draco, but didn't want to put stress on their newly forged truce come friendship by asking about his son.

He could only hope that she would not wake up one day and realize that she was having conversations with two former death eaters, one of which had sat back and watched her get tortured by a crazy woman and sliced open by the crazy woman's husband.

Hmmmm – why didn't he see any scars? He knew she had them. The ones Rodolphus gave her were with a magical knife, it would leave scars no matter how talented the Healer; and wasn't she kidnapped by Fenrir Greyback? Surely he'd left some scars.

Suddenly she was by his side. "Miss Granger."

"Mr. Malfoy." She smiled at him.

She didn't ever initiate a conversation with him, but did enjoy it when he would engage her.

"Miss Granger, May I ask a personal question?"

She watched him carefully; there was no trace of disdain or malice, only curiosity. Of course, he was skilled in maintaining any sign of emotion or lack thereof, so she really didn't know what he was thinking or what his intention.

Curiosity got the best of her. "Okay."

"Why don't you have any scars?"

She stiffened. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She turned to face the bartender and nodded to him, indicating that she needed two fingers of Firewhiskey.

He slid the shot to her and she downed it in one swallow.

When she put the glass on the bar, she turned to the curious blonde. "I use a glamour every day."

'_It's just one little scar on her cheek… she's so vain.' Draco quipped then stilled as Ron and Harry glared at him._

'_What?' He asked._

'_She has them all over her body; after Bellatrix tortured her, Rodolphus used her as a carving stone… and then Fenrir…' Ron said quietly_

_Draco felt really guilty, 'oh.' Was all he could say._

"Why?" Lucius asked.

She looked at him like he was daft and that was when Severus walked up. "Hermione, Lucius."

"Severus," they said in unison but the mood was dark.

Severus looked at the two and raised his eye brows in question. Hermione sighed and answered the unspoken question, "Mr. Malfoy would like to know why he can't see any of my scars."

_I don't like her tone. It's scary. Harry said._

Severus had to decide between reacting with surprise at Lucius' question or play it down so Hermione didn't get riled up. Whether she admitted it or not, this was a very sensitive subject. "Glamours, I suspect," he said nonchalantly looking around the bar, anywhere but at her, hoping Lucius would not continue.

"You haven't answered my question, Miss Granger," Lucius persisted.

Severus waited for her to blow up.

'_OhsweetMerlin, she's going to kill my father_.' _Draco said panicked as he sat on the bench with his two roommates and partners inside their invisibility bubble._

She felt anger, embarrassment and another emotion, one that scared her more than anything – a desire to respond truthfully to this man.

"You should call me Hermione if we're going to have this discussion." She paused and then continued after he nodded his acceptance. "Because they are a constant reminder that I failed; I failed to think fast enough to get us out of there, I failed to understand how very demented Bellatrix and her husband were and I failed to understand that all that practicing in the DA wasn't good enough against powerful and experienced wizards. Not to mention, that they are really ugly and sometimes scare people and I just need a break from the feeling of being a failure and the repulsed stares of those who have never seen battle."

'_Failed?' All three said in unison, with the same confused tone._

Severus and Lucius were staring at her so intensely that she started to feel fidgety. She almost laughed out loud when one her customers raised his hand for her to take his order.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, I am being summoned," she said in her sultry tone.

"I should apologize," Lucius said.

"No. If she didn't want you to know, she wouldn't have told you. Though, I am shocked that she feels like a failure. She was the reason for their success."

"She does realize that right?" Lucius asked.

"I don't think she does."

The men parted ways and Lucius watched her laugh and smile, but the joy never quite made it to her eyes.

After an exciting night of revelations, she walked home, not stopping to get the boys, in fact she went out the back door. She couldn't face them just yet after the confession. _How embarrassing!_ she thought.

She took a shower and set some tea to brew, when her favorite song came on; it made her feel like dancing, besides she could use all the practice she could get.

_Billy Ray was a Preachers son and when his daddy would visit he'd come along._

_When they gathered round and started talking, cousin Billy would take me walking._

_Through the back yard we'd go walking._

_Then he'd look into my eyes and Lord knows to my surprise;_

They Apparated right into her living room to hear the stereo blaring and see the tea steaming. What prevented them from making her aware of their presence was the fact that said witch was wearing a man's dress shirt with black boy shorts underneath and a red lacy bra. They knew this, because the shirt was see-through and unbuttoned to her belly.

She was singing and moving her hips in a very seductive manner.

_The only one, who could ever reach me, was the son of a preacher man._

_The only boy who could ever teach me, was the son of a preacher, yes he was, he was, oh yes he was._

She rolled her body this way and that and when it came to the last part of the verse 'oh yes he was' she folded her body over where her breasts were pressed against her knees and slowly rose swirling her body like a snake. Draco, Severus, Harry and Ron thought it a very sexy move.

_Being good isn't always easy, No matter how hard I tried,  
When he started sweet talking to me, he'd come tell me everything is alright,  
he'd kiss and tell me everything is alright, Can I get away again tonight?_

She spun around with her arms above her head, swaying her hips.

"Anyone wishing they were a preacher's son?" Ron asked the group of silently staring men.

"Indeed," Severus answered, his eyes not leaving the undulating form of Hermione Granger.

_The only one, who could ever reach me, was the son of a preacher man._

_The only boy who could ever teach me, was the son of a preacher, yes he was, he was, oh yes he was._

_How well I remember, the look that was in his eyes._

_Stealing kisses from me on the sly._

_Taking time to make time, telling me that he's all mine._

_Learning from each others' knowing, looking to see how much we'd grown._

She squatted down and bounced her bottom. She was resting on her toes while squatting and placed her hands on her knees, pushing them outward and swinging her hips inward a bit. Ron, in particular, couldn't believe what he was seeing. His body was doing crazy things.

_The only one, who could ever reach me, was the son of a preacher man._

_The only boy who could ever teach me, was the son of a preacher, yes he was, he was, oh yes he was._

The song was over and she turned. "OH! …ahhh, when did you guys get here?" she tried to play it cool, but the embarrassed flush in her face betrayed her tone and Harry, Draco and Ron burst out laughing.

Severus watched her face turn from embarrassed that she had been caught to mistakenly embarrassed that she thought they thought she was unsexy, terrible at this – in a word, failure.


	7. Red Light Special

"So…. Tea?" she asked, pulling her shirt over her lacy bra.

The laughing lads were quieting now and nodded at her offer. She quickly turned and waved her wand, which was testament to how frazzled she now was as she usually did things like brew tea and clean house the Muggle way.

Four steaming cups of tea floated across the room into the hands of her late night visitors, while she ran to her room to throw some clothes on her body.

She walked out wearing a large t shirt (the one Severus gave her) and a pair of old hole-y jeans.

She smiled, "So what brings you to my humble abode?" she asked.

"We were worried when we didn't see you leave," Draco said, staring at her intensely his previous humor wiped from his face.

"Oh well, I needed to stop by the grocers and pick up some tea; I was out," she lied… and they knew it.

"Well?" Harry asked.

"Well, what?" she asked, blowing on her tea to cool it.

"How do you like being a …how do you like working there?"

She smiled. "I like it just fine. I have a great boss." She winked at Severus, who rolled his eyes. "…and the girls are nice. It's fun actually."

"Why aren't you dancing?" Ron asked.

"I wasn't ready, but my big début is tomorrow night," she said.

"Can we come?" Draco asked his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Ah no," she said her tone final.

They grimaced and grumbled; Severus didn't he just drank his tea. The boys chatted a little more when Harry stood. "We just wanted to make sure you were alright. I'd love to stay longer, but it's late and I told Mena I'd call after work," he said the last part looking at Draco evilly.

"You haven't shagged her yet, Potter, so you can wipe that smug look off your face – the game isn't over," Draco replied.

"Ewwww. You bet on who would shag her first? That's barbaric!" she cried, scrunching her face.

It seemed Ron just joined the conversation. "You mean Mena Parker?"

Harry and Draco nodded, wondering why Ron was asking.

He answered their question. "You can't walk down the street without running into nine wizards who banged her, nasty bint."

Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "…and you know this how?" he egged the redhead on.

Ron shot him a look and realization dawned on the blonde Auror. "Oh," he said and stood suddenly, wanting to get hell out of there.

Awkward silence.

"Right, well, night, 'Mione," Harry said practically running from the room.

With a pop the three Aurors Disapparated and Severus stayed, waiting.

She sighed and then dropped her head back. She laughed a little and then spoke to her silent companion. "Why do I care?" she asked close to tears.

"Hermione, they are still boys – _**he**_ is still a boy, immature and clueless. Move on. Find someone who appreciates everything about you," he said softly.

They had a strange relationship; it had been Severus' quiet willingness to listen after _it_ happened. Ron made her laugh and coaxed her into the land of the living again, but she had had some very dark moments and it was Severus who had eased her through those times with his gentle manner and no nonsense logic.

She felt very connected to him and he to her. No one had ever let him help the way she had.

He had been a spy, yes, but it was for the 'greater good' no one really wanted to be around him, but she did. She let him in and it was nice to be able to help, not because he had to or because death and war were imminent, but because he needed that human connection. He felt important in her life.

She closed her eyes and whispered, "I had a dream about Remus… he told me to move on, too.

She snorted. "Point me in the right direction? I'm a fallen warrior; an exiled member of the Golden Trio AND the Fantastic Four; and for all intents and purposes, a topless dancer at a bar called Bare Witches," she said flatly.

He smirked. "Well, yes, those are compelling factors in avoiding you, but we know the truth and you have a job to do. Your life has purpose and you have friends. It will end and you will move on with the next hunt for criminals, for right now, let him be and enjoy yourself."

She moved and hugged him. "Thank you," she said tearfully.

He hugged her back briefly and then pushed her away. "Get yourself together, woman. I'll see you at work tomorrow. It promises to be a big turnout. Those flyers you suggested were brilliant. We have no tickets left, it's a full house," he said and Floo'd to his home.

"No pressure there," she said and went to bed.

At five pm she Apparated to her usual spot, a few blocks down from the bar. She was early to help get everything ready. She heard another pop and spied Lucius a few feet from her. "Hermoine," he greeted.

"Mr. Malfoy. How are you this evening?" she asked as they started walking together.

"Fine, thank you. Looking forward to all of our eager patrons buying as much alcohol as they can afford and stuffing your knickers with rent money?" he asked, teasing… kind of.

She snorted. "How unbelievably crass," she said.

He huffed in humor, but didn't apologize.

After a moment of comfortable silence, he made a sound and gave Hermione the impression he wanted to say something. "Mr. Malfoy?"

He sighed. "Please, call me Lucius if we are to have this discussion." She nodded.

_What discussion? Draco asked his posture curious._

_Shhhhh, I can't hear if you keep talking. Ron replied._

_Shut up the both of you! Harry hissed._

"I've been meaning to ask you…. This is difficult…. How is … How is Draco doing?" he asked, stopping to look at her.

Her heart broke at both his question and the hopeful expression on his usual stoic face.

She smiled, swallowing the urge to throw her arms around this man and assure him everything was going to be okay. "He's well, though I haven't seen him in some time as they don't associate with me anymore, but the last time I saw him he was doing well." She paused to watch his face and then continued, "You'd be proud of him. He's a very good Auror. He's a great partner to Harry and he was a good friend, who I miss terribly," she said not lying exactly, she did miss him when he was gone for long periods of time, but since he was still part of their family she saw him often enough… sometime too often, he could be annoying.

"I would be proud of him no matter what he did, but it's good to hear that he's doing fine and excelling at something he enjoys." He wanted to ask, but he couldn't make his brain form the words.

"Mr. Malfoy, Would you like me to give him a message for you?" she asked ever intuitive.

"Yes, thank you. Would you tell him that I miss him and if he ever needs me or just wants to talk, I will be there whenever, wherever?" he asked.

She placed her hand on his forearm, knowing how hard that must have been for him. "Of course."

Lucius walked in and Hermione stood outside for a moment, looking at the bench she knew the boys were sitting.

_Draco? You okay, mate? Ron asked_

_Draco couldn't speak at the moment so he only nodded._

_Harry clamped his hand on Draco's shoulder as a sign of support, but didn't speak either. That conversation had choked him up, too._

The bar was hopping. It was standing room only and still a line outside. She was mildly horrified; they all came to see the fallen Princess of Gryffindor dance. _UGH_!

The girls' routines and song choices were keeping the base pumping and the clients drinking. All in all, this night was a huge success already, but her time had come, she was up right after Mary Ann and the girl and her song: GLAMOROUS by Fergie was on right now.

Hermione made her way to the changing room and donned her attire nervously.

"Don't be a nervous Nelly, you'll do fine," Jenna told her warmly. Despite their rough start, the girls had become friends.

**DJ: Well now! Please give a big round of applause for Miss Mary Ann Lovely with ****GLAMOROUS!**** …and you are lovely, Mary Ann!**

**We're gonna slow it down a bit with the next number, the one you've no doubt been waiting for. **

**It's a pleasure to introduce our Lady Danger – boys you know who I'm talkin' about- with ****TLC's Red Light Special****.**

The lights dimmed to allow only one light to shine on the stage. The chatter in the room stopped; only the noise of clinking glasses could be heard at the bar. They all felt the breeze blow in the direction of the stage.

The music started and Hermione walked out slowly, wearing a long fur coat (transfigured of course no dead animals) with her hair loose and her make up dark.

_Take a good look at it  
Look at it now  
Might be the last time you'll  
Have a go round  
I'll let you touch it if you'd  
Like to go down  
I'll let you go further  
If you take the southern route  
Don't go too fast  
Don't go too slow  
You've got to let your body flow  
I like 'em attentive  
And I like 'em in control_

She spun around and dropped the coat, revealing bright green satin pajamas. One button was holding the shirt together and the breeze was blowing strong enough to open the shirt baring her flat stomach.

Her pajama pants rode low on her hips and she rolled her pelvis slowly like the belly dancers taught her.

Her hair was blowing back and she rubbed her hands up her body, starting from her undulating hips to her stomach, over her covered breasts. The backs of her fingers skimmed up her neck and rose over her head.

_Baby it's yours  
All yours  
If you want it tonight  
I'll give you the red light special  
All through the night  
Baby it's yours  
All yours  
If you want it tonight  
Just come through my door  
Take off my clothes  
And turn on the red light_

She spun and squatted, placing her hands on the inside of her knees and pushed out. She stood up, bottom first and looked at the men behind her – the ones with her bum in their direct line of sight- and gave them a seductive smile.

She stood and grabbed the pole, gracefully pulling herself up so that the bar was between her legs.

_I know that you want me I can  
See it in your eyes  
You might as well be honest 'cause the  
Body never lies  
Tell me your secrets and I'll  
I'll tell you mine  
I'm fellin' quite sexy  
And I want you for tonight  
If I move too fast just let me know  
'Cause it means you move too slow  
I like some excitement  
And I like a man that goes_

She spun around again, pulling off the pants. She was wearing black boy shorts that fit very snugly, but not tight. They came to just below her hips and rode high enough to show her bottom cheeks a bit.

As she walked back up the stage, a red light came on, like a siren light on a police vehicle. She pulled her top off and turned to face the crowd.

Her jeweled bra top covered most, but it was sexy and she was grateful neither Mr. Malfoy nor Severus pressed the issue with her being completely topless.

She rolled her body in a snake move as the song continued.

_Baby it's yours  
All yours  
If you want it tonight  
I'll give you the red light special  
All through the night  
Baby it's yours  
All yours  
If you want it tonight  
Just come through my door  
Take off my clothes  
And turn on the red light_

At the end of song, she sat on the side of the stage, with her foot resting in between some wizards legs, on the chair in which he is sitting.

The lights turned on, blinding her for a moment. She waved and walked to the back, where she hears the very loud applause, commotion and cheer for an encore.

She giggles to herself and Jenna Winks at her.

**DJ: well well well thank you lady Danger. Did it get hot in here?**

The next number started and she changed back into her usual, heading to the bar.

"Nicely done, Hermione. I'm pretty sure that every wizard in here wishes himself the red light special," Severus said.

She smiled.

Someone behind her cleared his throat.

She turned and looked at an extremely good looking man, who looked vaguely familiar.

"Hermione Granger?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Blaise Zabini. Do you remember me?" he asked, the deep timber in his voice affecting her body in ways that it shouldn't.

"Yes."

"May I buy you a drink?" he asked.

"I'm working." She didn't mean to be short, but her hormones were going nuts and this was something she just wasn't used to.

"Maybe afterward then?" he asked, looking nowhere, but her eyes.

"My shift ends at 12:30, if you're still interested I'll meet you at the café down the street," she said as firmly and non-interested as she possibly could.

His indigo eyes gleamed. He nodded curtly. "Gentlemen," he said to Severus and Lucius and walked away.

Lucius was the first to speak, "He's bad news, Hermione… and that is something coming from me."

She was taken aback, but acknowledged his concern.

Severus only looked at her for a moment. "Be careful and if you need us, call. I will come immediately," he told her.

"As will I," Lucius added, surprising them both.

The rest of the night went well, the girls performed wonderfully. The bar made A LOT of money.

Her shift was just ending so she performed a cleansing charm on herself, tied her hair into a braid and drank a celebratory shot with both of her bosses.

She walked slowly to the café not expecting him to be there, but sitting just inside the window at a table for two was the one and only Blaise Zabini.

_Earlier that evening._

"Who wants to watch 'Mione's coming out party?" Draco asked.

"Me," Ron answered immediately.

They looked at Harry. "Of course," he said not even trying to be the voice of reason.

Draco pulled out three hairs all belonging to Muggle men and opened the bathroom door to the now ready Polyjuice Potion…


	8. Polyjuice

Draco ladled the potion into glasses and each man put the hair Draco had obtained, inside the mixture.

They toasted one another silently, by raising their glasses and downing the wretched potion. Soon their skin was bubbling and moving; the cramps were so severe it drove them to their knees and after a moment, a tingling sensation washed over them, signaling the end of the metamorphosis.

Draco looked up at his roommates. "I placed an extension charm on it so we should be able to sustain this appearance until tomorrow morning."

Ron looked at his hands, now the color of cocoa. He fisted them a few times as if he were working out soreness in his joints and then ran one hand over his head to find that he was bald.

He walked quickly to the mirror and found dark eyes staring back at him. He smirked. He was rather handsome as a black guy, he thought.

He turned around to look at his partners in crime; Draco was no long discernable with platinum blonde hair. It was now a sandy blonde that hung to his shoulders in a stylish wave. He was a foot shorter than normal and seemed to have taken the hair from someone who lifted weights for hours a day.

He was barrel chested and his arms were the size of some ones thigh. His eyes were hazel and his top lip was close to nonexistent.

"You look a little scary, mate," Ron said to the new Draco.

They both just seemed to notice Harry a moment later when they valiantly attempted not to laugh outright at the boy-who-lived's Polyjuiced appearance.

He looked like someone the girls would actively avoid if possible. He was middle aged for a Muggle, putting him around forty-five years old. He was going bald and was already experimenting with the 'comb over'. His hair was a little greasy and his middle was round, but not excessively so.

He was tall with watery blue eyes and a scarred face, most likely from teenaged acne. His hands were small and there was hair peeking through the top of his shirt all the way around his collar, which implied he was victim to 'hairy back'.

Harry looked at himself in the mirror and groaned.

Ron and Draco were snickering.

"Blaise," she greeted as she sat down across from him.

He stood quickly when he saw her walk in and sat with her when she greeted him. "Hermione." He gave her a small smile. "I was thinking you probably weren't coming," he told her. The words were humble, but his voice held no insecurity.

The waitress walked up and took Hermione's order; Blaise was already drinking coffee. "Caramel Macchiato, please, with skim milk," she politely requested.

"I haven't seen you there before, what prompted your visit tonight?" she asked him, knowing full well what prompted him, but she waited patiently for some nebulous answer that put the blame squarely on someone else's shoulders – like he was dragged there by 'a friend'…

"You," he told her directly.

She quirked an eyebrow in surprise. "Me?"

He nodded certainly. "You."

"I see… and was it worth it?" she asked.

He flashed her a smile. "Definitely."

She had the grace to blush at his confident compliment. "Well good. I'm happy to hear that."

He chuckled.

She didn't know what else to say, he was charming and good looking and, in her mind, way out of her league.

His interest made her ill at ease, bordering on suspicious. "You seem uncomfortable. My straight forward nature can be intimidating. I don't like games," he said confidently.

"I'm not intimidated, Blaise." Her voice was assertive. "It's just that I don't always react - gracefully to compliments. Please forgive my stammering and thank you," she said, ending her statement softly.

"You're welcome. Do you like dancing? There, I mean?" he asked still gazing at her intensely, with those indigo eyes.

She smiled. She did like it, but wasn't sure if she should share that information with him.

After a moment of thought, she decided honesty was the best policy. "Yes, I do actually; know-it-all swot – perfectly prudish prefect of Hogwarts likes shaking her arse in front of dozens of wizards, scandalous," she said in an exaggerated tone, laughing at herself.

He chuckled at her embellishment. "I never thought you were perfect or prudish. I thought your taste in men and friends was …lacking, but never prudish. I figured you just hadn't the opportunity for someone to light your fire," he said seductively.

It wasn't an in-your-face seduction it was a sly wheedle of comfortable flirting that promised more.

"Again with the compliments, did you not learn the first time?" she teased her eyes sparkling.

He smiled at her. "You'll either have to forgive me after every compliment or get used to it. I plan to compliment you many times over."

She responded with humor and sarcasm as per the usual. "All in one night? Such a lofty goal, but ambition was high on the priority list in Slytherin, was it not?"

He leaned back and looked at her with those piercing eyes of his, eyes so dark and mysterious she _wanted_ them to drink in every ounce of her body.

"Oh, I don't plan on ending this tonight, Hermione. We'll be seeing much more of each other in the future," he stated.

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Do I not have a say, then?"

"Not really, no."

The finality of his words struck a chord with her. This was a man who was used to getting what he wanted.

She changed the subject to stop that line of thought. "What are you doing these days, Blaise?" she asked him genuinely interested.

"Zabini Industries." He waved it off as if him being the CEO of a major conglomerate, at such a young age, was nothing.

"Will you have lunch with me tomorrow?" he asked.

She looked at him and felt a stirring of disappointment. "This was nice, Blaise, but you don't want to be seen with me. I'm …" she didn't know how to finish, so she let the statement trail off.

He finished for her, leaning in, "You're beautiful and smart. Sexy and …from what I've heard, dangerous." He smirked and she didn't know if he were referring to her stage name or if he had heard about MacNair.

"I'm tired of playing with vapid robots; they never have an opinion of their own and positively salivate at the idea of getting their greedy little hands on my Gringotts vault. It's tiresome."

"I work at a topless bar. Surely you can find someone in the business world worthy of your… affections," she responded flatly, though her interest was piqued.

"You didn't and haven't taken your top off and I would like to get to know you," he countered to her off putting remark. "Are you seeing someone? Weasley, perhaps?" he asked. He knew she wasn't seeing anyone, he'd checked.

"No. We've never… We didn't … No," she said finally. "Are you?"

"No, but I soon will be," He said, giving her a knowing smile.

"I'm Muggle- born." Her trump card.

"I'm pureblood," He said, trumping her trump card.

She blinked at him. "You're presumptuous and arrogant," she told him, thinking insulting his ego was the way to go, though, she wasn't sure why she was trying to push him away.

"I'm confident and …perhaps – possibly – _a little_ arrogant," he said, lifting his hands and shrugging with them by loosely spreading his fingers and showing his palms face up.

He had beautiful hands, she thought. Masculine and strong looking, large hands that were both callused and refined. She suspected the rough quality had something to do with sports, Quidditch. If she remembered correctly he played at Hogwarts.

She smirked at his 'compromise'. "Do you still play Quidditch?" she asked.

This time he quirked a curious eyebrow in her direction. "Yes, every chance I get. How did you know?"

"Your hands." She took one large one in her two small ones, turning it over so she could see the calluses. She rubbed her thumbs over the center of his palms. "They're both smooth and rough. You don't look like someone, who would engage in yard work and I remembered you played in school." She was staring at her thumbs, rubbing circles on his large, warm hand.

When she looked up into his face, she saw the raw desire in his eyes. She dropped his hand. "Oh, I'm sorry. I… I'm a hands girl," she offered in explanation, hoping he wouldn't think her forward.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Don't be sorry, Hermione. Your touch …well, it affected me more than I care to admit right now."

She tilted her head. "Why?" she asked softly.

"…because I suddenly realized that I want you to touch me all over," he whispered. It was only a half lie, he _did_ want her to touch him all over, but he'd known that from the moment she had stepped on stage. He didn't 'suddenly realize' anything.

She took a breath and leaned back, his lips were much too close to hers. "So lunch tomorrow then? Where shall I meet you?" she asked.

"I'll send a car to your flat at 11:30." He stared at her for a few seconds and then inhaled, easing back against the chair. "I must go, Cara. See you tomorrow." He took her hand and brought it to his lips. That small contact sent electricity throughout her body and she shivered involuntarily.

He smiled and walked out.

She waited until he was gone and dropped her head in her hands. "This is going to be a bumpy ride, folks," she said to herself and left the café to return home.

The three nondescript wizards walked in and found seats at the edge of the stage on the side. They ordered drinks and waited for the current dancer to finish.

"She's hot," Draco said.

Harry nodded.

Ron didn't think she was all that.

**DJ: Well now! Please give a big round of applause for Miss Mary Ann Lovely with ****GLAMOROUS!**** …and you are lovely Mary Ann!**

**We're gonna slow it down a bit with the next number, the one you've no doubt been waiting for. **

**It's a pleasure to introduce our Lady Danger – boys you know who I'm talkin' about- with ****TLC's Red Light Special**

The men looked up when the lights dimmed. Harry looked around after a moment, noticing the room had gone quiet.

He settled in and watched as his best friend, one he'd known since they were eleven years old, who had stuck by him through thick and thin, walked out on stage.

"Oh my dear sweet Merlin," Draco whispered.

Ron nodded unable to speak.

_Just come through my door  
Take off my clothes  
And turn on the red light_

Their eyes widened when she stood up bottom first; it was facing them. She looked at them wickedly and began to dance again.

Harry was positive his mouth was open.

The song was ending and they watched her do a spin move on the bar, and then crawl over to their side of the stage. She slithered her legs around and slid down the stage stairs sexily, placing her heeled shoe dangerously close to Draco's …manhood.

He slid back unconsciously and opened his legs a little wider. She smiled and pressed forward a little.

Draco was having a hard time breathing, but then it was over and she removed her foot, waved and walked off the stage.

It took seconds for the wizards in the room to recover, but when they did, it was loud chaos, chanting Lady Danger and begging for an encore.

The DJ was directed to start the next act by Severus and so he did, effectively ending the commotion.

All three watched as she exited from the back and had changed into short shorts and a pink tank top, but smaller. It looked like an under shirt thought Ron.

She stood in between Snape and Malfoy, facing the crowd. She was smiling and so were they.

She turned around to get a drink, when a familiar face approached her.

"Is that…" Harry asked, but was interrupted.

"Zabini. Of course," Draco confirmed and said the last like he should have known.

"What do you mean 'of course'," Ron asked, but none of them took their eyes from the scene across the room.

"Crime… attacks, Caperelli Crime Family," Draco informed them.

Harry groaned. "His mother is the only daughter of Michael Caperelli."

"Do you think she knows?"

"No." Ron replied.


	9. not attractive

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

She was pacing. She was nervous. She wanted a drink. She looked in the mirror for the hundredth time; her hair was shiny and long, her outfit was nice and fit her well. She was wearing a light gray pencil skirt, slightly flared at the bottom, with black knee high pointed heeled boots. She wore tights under the skirt as it was still cold and a winter white turtle neck sweater that hugged her slim shoulders, round breasts and slender waist. She was wearing simple gold hoop earrings and light make-up.

She didn't dare pick up Crooks for fear of him shedding all over her. "Well, this will just have to do," she said to the half Kneazle. He only meowed and preened in response.

A knock on the door jarred her out of the nervous pacing. She took a deep breath and opened the door. "Oh! …. Crabbe?" she asked surprised that she recognized him and that it wasn't Blaise.

"Yes, Miss Granger. I'm to escort you to your destination," he said stiffly, stepping aside for her to precede him.

He was wearing an expensive black suit and shiny black shoes.

Once she donned her outer robes she walked out, closed the door and walked passed him.

She stopped when she got close enough to the street to see the car… the _Muggle_ car.

She could feel the large man behind her. "What is that?" she asked shocked.

"Your ride, Miss Granger," he said, walking to the door to open it for her.

She stared at him for a moment longer and got in. She hadn't been in a car for years.

"Crabbe?" she asked as he slipped into the driver's seat.

"Yes, Miss Granger."

"First, Miss Granger sounds so …old for me and from someone my age. Second, How long have you worked for Blaise?" she asked, not really expecting him to answer her, but she hoped. A scene flashed in her mind of Ron flying back into the Room of Requirement to save the large man from the Fyend Fire he'd cast. They'd come out coughing and wheezing, but alive.

After the war, Crabbe and Goyle just faded into the background. They hadn't ever been outwardly mean to her – other than sneering. Draco took care of the insults; they just stood by and glowered.

He looked at her through the review mirror then looked down at the moving picture laid out on the front seat. It was part of her routine the previous night, before she'd removed the silky pajamas. Crabbe thought she was sexy as Hades, but made sure to tuck the picture into a folder so his boss wouldn't see that he had it.

He looked back through the review mirror. "Hermione then? Since, he …assumed his grandfather's role."

She smiled but it faded and she asked, "Is Blaise's father dead."

She watched the unwitting emotion shadow Crabbe's eyes for a moment. "Mr. Zabini can answer you better than I can."

"What do you do?" she asked always the curious one.

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "Why all the questions, Granger? You'd think with your rather public fall from grace, it would have humbled you somewhat, but no. You're still the same old Granger. Mudblood extraordinaire." His eyes widened in surprise. He couldn't believe he'd just said that – Mr. Zabini would kill him.

He tried to apologize, but when he looked back at her through the mirror, he saw tears form in her eyes and a surprised hurt expression on her face. Guilt crept up along his spine. He'd meant to joke with her, but it came out harsh and degrading. "I… I'm sorry… I," he tried, but was interrupted.

"No. It's fine. I just wasn't expecting it that's all. Sorry to have bothered you," she said and looked out the window.

They pulled up a few moments later. She started to get out, but Crabbe rushed around and opened the door for her. "Thank you," she said and looked straight ahead instead of anywhere near him.

Blaise was standing there, looking imposing in his dark suit and bouquet of wild flowers. There were two or three dark suited men with him, who she didn't recognize, but they looked scary.

She wasn't sure she would be able take them down if push came to shove. "Hermione…" Blaise said with a smile and stepped forward.

He stopped abruptly and looked from Crabbe to her and back again. "What happened?" he asked her first.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

Blaise looked at Crabbe. "Che cosa è accaduto?" Blaise asked. (_What happened?)_

Crabbe swallowed visibly. "Stava facendo le domande. Ero maleducato a lei. Ho chiesto scusa, ma lei didn' la t accetta," he said nervously.

(_She was asking questions. I was rude. I tried apologizing, but she didn't accept.)_

Blaises' eyes darkened and his face turned from handsome to fierce in a matter of moments. "Parleremo più successivamente di questo. Ora vada."

(_We'll talk about this later. Go now_.)

Crabbe nodded and drove away.

Blaise returned his focus to Hermione. "My apologies," he said and turned to offer her his arm, which she took.

She had been quietly listening to their conversation, in the hopes that she caught a word she understood; she was pants at Italian, but listening to the suave Italian in front of her speak made her want to enroll in some language classes.

"I didn't know Crabbe spoke Italian," she said tentatively.

Blaise looked down and shrugged. "Yes."

She looked around and found two of the burly men walking behind them and one in front. "Blaise?" she whispered.

He looked at her with a smirk on his face, like he knew she would ask, just not in a whisper. "Are you in some kind of witness protection program?" she continued in her whisper.

"Something like that, Cara." She smiled at his endearment. _Definitely need to learn Italian_.

"Blaise?" she asked again after a second.

He looked at her again, this time with a full smile on his face. "Yes?"

"Are those for me?" she asked, referring to the flowers he was still holding. She wanted to laugh and he could tell she was making an attempt not to.

He laughed out loud. "Yes, love. Do you like them?" he asked after she smelled them.

"I do, they're lovely," she said and slid into the back seat of the _other_ limo. He followed right behind her.

Two taps on the door and the car began to move.

"You look lovely, Hermione," he said sweetly.

"Thank you. You do, too… err handsome."

He laughed again and was startled by her next words, "You have a nice laugh, Blaise," she told him softly, looking him in the eye.

He liked her straight forward nature. _No lies in this one,_ he thought.

He nodded in thanks, but didn't say anything.

Hermione thought she saw a touch of color taint his cheeks, though she couldn't be sure as he'd turned his face.

She buried her nose in her wild flowers, she loved them. No one had ever got her flowers before. Remus was a wonderful conversationalist and hopelessly tender in bed, but he was not the most romantic of men… and Ron, well, he rarely ever made the first move. He certainly hadn't with her anyway, and she was pretty sure he hadn't with anyone else, so unless they draped themselves on him like a curtain…

"What are you thinking?" he asked, watching her.

She didn't look up from where her nose was currently affixed. "I was thinking how nice it was that you brought me flowers and how pretty they smell and how glad I am that they aren't roses or carnations," she said and then looked up and smiled.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like them. Ready for lunch?" he asked quite pleased with himself. He had almost brought her a bouquet of red roses, but she was different than the others so he went with something basic, but pretty.

She nodded eagerly.

After about fifteen minutes of driving, the car stopped. He got out, waved the driver away from her door, and opened it himself. He offered his hand to help her out.

She paused and then put her small hand in his larger one; once again electricity shot down her spine at his touch.

He'd noticed her pause and the blatant emotion that whizzed across her face. He wanted to smile when she placed her hand in his.

He pulled her out and she looked up amazed, they were in a giant terrarium with flowers and plants – it was wonderful. She smiled and giggled a little.

He smiled too and led her to a small table in the middle of a rock patio with a stream running around it.

They ate and talked and laughed, when he suddenly grew serious. "Hermione… what did Crabbe say?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Nothing special. I was bugging him with questions and he just wondered aloud why I needed to constantly ask questions," she laughed. "Poor guy. He did say that you took over your grandfathers' position with Zabini Industries. Anyway, he said to ask you and then…"

"…and then?" he prodded, though his body language was tense and …angry.

"Mudblood," she said. She hurriedly tried to put him at ease. "It's okay, really. I just wasn't expecting it that's all. He apologized. Now I know not to attack him with questions," She tried to sound casual, but it came across as pleading. She was afraid that she'd just gotten Crabbe fired.

"No, Hermione. His behavior was unacceptable," he said, calling over one of his… people.

"You're not going to fire him are you?" she asked horrified.

He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No, I'm not going to fire him."

He looked at her and his brows furrowed. "Hermione… are you wearing a Glamour?" He didn't like Glamours, they were lies as far as he was concerned and the fact that she was wearing one disappointed him.

She put her fork down and inhaled. "Yes."

Something told him to press the issue. "Why? You're beautiful."

She smiled and blushed. "Thank you. I Glamour some old scars. People tend to only focus on the scars when you talk to them, so I Glamour them."

"Will you let me see?" he asked.

"Maybe. But not today," she said softly, with a shake of her head, hoping he would understand.

It was a pleasant lunch, filled with wide a variety of topics and a tour through the terrarium. Turns out -he owned it.

"I can't take you back myself, I have business," he said, taking her hands in his and facing her. "I had a really great time."

"Me, too," she said and squeezed his hands.

"Can I see you again?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes. I would like that," she said, smiling.

"When? I want a full day," he said.

She chuckled. "Ummm …" her eyes narrowed. "You aren't going to take me flying are you, on your broom?"

He tiltled his head curiously. "No, but that's not a bad idea."

She was shaking her head emphatically. "It's a _terrible_ idea!" she said.

He laughed at her again. "Okay, then. I'll think of something else."

"Well, tomorrow night is our 'group' coming out. Saturday? I don't have to work until nine pm."

"No. The entire day," he said stubbornly.

She rolled her eyes, liking that he wanted to spend this time with her. "Sunday, then, I don't have to work on Monday."

"Sunday, then," he said, walking her back to the car.

He kissed her knuckles and closed the car door, tapping the hood, signaling the driver to go.

He turned to the man in front of him. "Follow her. I want to know everything she does, everywhere she goes and everyone she talks to."

The other man nodded and walked away.

Another car pulled up and he got in; without a word the car drove off.

She didn't recognize the driver so she stayed quiet, looking at her flowers. She smelled them and smiled wistfully, _maybe Severus was right. She needed to move on_.

The driver glanced in the review mirror. He saw her nose buried in the flowers, her eyes were closed with a small smile. It made him smirk. She made a pretty picture.

They arrived at her flat a short ride later. She thanked the driver and walked upstairs. She knew they were there the moment she was close enough to her wards to feel the presence.

She opened the door to find three highly annoyed wizards staring at her. "Where, in Merlins name, have you been?" Harry ranted.

She smiled. "I had a date."

Draco sighed and shook his head. "We need to meet with Moody," he said.

Her smiled faltered and she nodded. "Just let me change, then I'll meet you there. It wouldn't do for everyone to see us walking together like old pals."

They agreed and Apparated out of her living area.

Twenty minutes later, she walked up the familiar steps to the Ministry Law Enforcement division, wearing jeans and a t shirt, looking as solemn as she possibly could; so far she hadn't been able to wipe the smile from her face.

She knocked twice and entered the large office. Everyone was there. "Ahh Miss Granger, take a seat." He motioned with his hand to the available seat… the one she usually took, by the way, which made his behavior seem odd to her.

"Blaise Zabini," he began.

Her heart sank.

He looked at her and thought that sometimes his job sucked.

"What about him?" she asked slowly

"His mother is the only daughter of Michael Caperelli, of the …"

She groaned. "Caperelli Crime Family."

"Yes."

She shifted and cast her eyes to the floor. She didn't want to say it, but she had to. They all looked at her expectantly. They knew her tell tale signs… plus she was a horrible liar… at least where they were concerned.

She sighed and dropped her head back, closing her eyes. "He just assumed his grandfathers role, which now makes him the _head_ of the Caperelli Crime Family."

Silence.

Moody spoke first, "Well, it's good he's interested in you already. It would've been impossible to get to him if you had to approach him," he said.

Draco, Harry and Ron groaned.

Her head snapped up and she glared at him. "…and why is that?" she snapped.

"Because, we don't have any female operatives that fit the description of his normal feminine interests," he said casually.

Silence.

"Right. Well, that's enough for tonight, then," she said and walked out quite briskly.

After the door slammed and they all jumped at the noise, Moody focused on the now glaring wizards seated in front of him. "What?"

"You just told Hermione that she wasn't attractive," Draco informed the old Auror.

"No, I didn't, I said….oh." He sighed. "Well, how was I supposed to know she would be offended. She's an Auror for cripes sake!"

"She's a **woman**!" Ron all but yelled.

"You never…. Ever tell a woman that she is not attractive," Harry said, shaking his head.

"No wonder you aren't married," Draco said and then added, "Sir," when his boss frowned at him.

"Should I apologize?" he asked and was blown back by the three yelling, "NO!" at the same time.

"Why not?" he asked confused.

"You don't want to remind her of your comment. Just let her get over it," Draco told him.

"If you are wondering, letting her get over it is unique to Hermione; with other women you should apologize," Harry advised and the others agreed.

Moody was thoroughly confused and slightly annoyed. "Get out of my office."

She walked out of the office with a scowl on her face. She had slammed the door on her way out, but that did nothing to ease her irritation.

She was so angry that she failed to see the man in the corner, watching her.


	10. She knew all this

She Apparated to her neighborhood and walked angrily home, slamming the door when she walked in. "Why do I even care? It's Moody, _Mad Eye_ Moody for Merlins sake!" She huffed and strode to her small bathroom to look in the mirror.

She looked at herself closely. Good skin, she thought; lightly freckled…considered cute; button nose proportionate to her heart shaped face; full pink lips – she puckered and then smiled; straight white teeth.

She turned sideways and looked at her hair. It fell down her back in chocolate waves no longer frizzy; it was thick and shiny.

She closed the door and viewed herself in the full length mirror, which was attached to the back of the door. She took off her shirt and pants and examined her thin muscular body. She had curves, but they were sculpted and her body fit. She wasn't masculine at all; toned arms and legs, flat stomach, full breasts and a feminine slope to her hips.

All in all, she was pretty happy with it, her knees were a little knobby and her toes a little long, but she was satisfied. Staring off into space for a moment, she sighed.

She waved her wand and removed the Glamour. No longer smiling, she traced the scars marking her skin.

She stiffened and turned quickly, brandishing her wand – not that she could do much with it, she was still on probation – but she thought she heard something… an intake of breath… a heartbeat…_something_.

She lowered the 'weapon' and turned on the shower. She would get cleaned up and take a nap before work.

"Marcus." He looked at his watch. "Back so soon?" Blaise asked not looking up from his paperwork.

"Mr. Zabini. She went to the Ministry, straight into Chief Auror Moody's office, sir."

Zabini looked up at this news and scowled, waiting for the rest of the information.

"She walked in with a… smile on her face, stayed for about an hour and left. She looked upset when she left. She slammed the doors rather hard and paraded out of there like she was being chased," he reported.

Zabini's scowl let up at this news. "Who was in the office?"

"Moody for certain, but other than that, I don't know. She went home afterwards and I was barely able to keep up. Luckily, I took a chance and Apparated to her flat, arriving before she did.

I slid inside before she slammed her door, too." Marcus was hesitant to share the rest of the information. Mr. Zabini would not take kindly to this, he knew.

"Spit it out, Marcus," Blaise snapped.

"She was mumbling something about her …attractiveness. I'm guessing Moody made some kind of negative remark about her appearance. She was looking at herself in the mirror, just her face at first… and then…" the man shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously.

"And then?" Zabini's tense posture did not bode well.

"She took off her clothes." He paused, avoiding eye contact then hurried on, "She removed her Glamour charm, sir."

Blaise's anger at his employee seeing Hermione nude was momentarily overcome by curiosity. "Yes?"

"She has scars on her lower back – they look like claw marks, they dipped under her …umm knickers so I didn't see how extensive they were; a set of claw marks across her shoulder blade; a particular nasty looking scar, running along the side of her rib cage curved to end at her belly button; various smaller scars that look like knife wounds and a thin white scar, running down the left side of her face. It starts near her ear and runs diagonal through the hollow of her cheek, ending at her chin. She also has a thin scar on her neck, though her hair was covering, so…" He finished.

"Thank you, Marcus. You may leave and finish your patrol. She will leave for work at 5:30; I want you to be there at 4:45."

"Yes, sir," he said relieved.

Hermione made her way into the bar and smiled at her co-workers; she was still thinking about Blaise, but she hadn't seen him since he put her in the car yesterday. He did send her a note reminding her that she was in his thoughts.

She liked it, but he was now a task, not a love interest. She sighed, disappointed. Now she had to get him to trust her enough to gather evidence against him and all the while, attempting to place walls around her heart so that she didn't start to have feelings for him.

Blaise was charismatic, smart, powerful, good looking and sexy as hell – this would not be easy.

She loved Ron, no doubt about that, but she was now recognizing the fact that not only did he not feel the same and even if he did hold some element of romantic feeling for her he would never act upon them; and that they may not be suited.

She had clung to him for support for so long that she was beginning to doubt herself.

She shook her head to mentally clear it; she needed to focus. Tonight was 'their' night, the coming out. With her meetings with Severus and Lucius, they all decided that every Friday night they would advertise some kind of show and send flyers out with tickets available for purchase to said show.

Tonight was 'Lady Marmalade' – the four of them: Hermione, Jenna, Mary Ann and Justina. She was nervous, but not nearly as nervous as she was for her debut.

"Ready, Hermione?" Jenna asked. "We're on after Courtney's dance."

"Yes. You look good Jenna," Hermione said, smiling at her friend.

Justina entered the conversation, "We all do. We're going to knock their socks off."

"Just their socks?" Mary Ann asked with an evil glint in her eyes, making the other girls giggle.

**DJ: Let's hear it for Candy Cane Courtney! Sweet girl, that Candy Cane. Okay, Gentlemen, our premier tonight. Please welcome Lady Danger and her game with Lady Marmalade!**

They all looked incredibly sexy. Hermione was wearing a Crimson corset that came to a V over her hips and ended in a point on her lower belly; it had black fringe along the bottom. Her satin knickers were bikini cut and black. She had on black thigh high stockings with garters running down the front and back, connecting to the tops of the stockings. Her hair had been curled into ringlets and she was wearing a top hat, elbow gloves, and black knee high boots.

Jenna was wearing gold boy shorts with white trim, cream stockings, and knee high boots. She had a white bra top with gold sparkles. Her hair had been teased and she had a white feather in her hair.

Mary Ann had Glamoured her hair purple to match the deep purple corset she was wearing. Black satin boy shorts. Black thigh high stockings with a satin trim bow at the top and black knee high boots with purple satin laces.

Justina was pink, pink pink. Her clothes matched Mary Anns, but everything was pink, including her hair. She had a black feather in her hair and black satin elbow length gloves.

_Where's all mah soul sistas  
Lemme hear ya'll flow sistas_

They walked down the stage together slowly, snapping their fingers.

_He met Marmalade down IN old Moulin Rouge  
Struttin her stuff on the street  
She said, Hello, hey Jo, you wanna give it a go? Oh! uh huh_

When the last sentence was sung, they all stopped at different points on the stage and bent over, looking behind them, shaking their arse's a bit.

More of the song went by with the girls twirling on the poles and giving the patrons one hell of a show.

_yea yea uh  
He come through with the money and the garter bags  
I let him know we bout that cake straight up the gate uh  
We independent women, some mistake us for whores  
I'm sayin, why spend mine when I can spend yours _

They all stopped and looked at the audience mouthing 'why spend mine when I can spend yours' and stuck their bums out to the side and slapped it.

_Disagree? Well that's you and I'm sorry  
Imma keep playing these cats out like Atari  
Wear ideal shoes get love from the dudes  
4 bad ass chicks from the Moulin Rouge  
hey sistas, soul sistas, betta get that dough sistas  
We drink wine with diamonds in the glass  
bottle case the meaning of expensive taste  
if you wanna Giuchie, Giuchie, ya ya  
Mocha Chocalate-a what?  
Real Lady Marmalade  
One more time Cmon now_

They walked off the stage and moved into the audience of slack-jawed wizards. Each found a wizard and straddled him, moving up and down seductively while the song played. At a certain point, they lifted their legs over the wizards head and turned away from him, sitting on his lap with their legs spread, straddling him the other way.

_Christina...(oh Leaeaa Oh)  
Pink... (Lady Marmalade)  
Lil Kim...(hey Hey! uh uh uh uh...)  
Mya...(Oh Oh oooo)  
Rot wailer baby...(baby)  
Moulin Rouge... (0h)  
Misdemeanor here... _

_Creole Lady Marmalade _

They made their way back on stage to end with one hand up and the other placed sexily on their hips; their eyes scanning the crowd. _Yes- ah!_

Severus and Lucius were speechless. Severus needed a drink and signaled the bartender for two fingers; Lucius downed the remainder of his.

"Best decision you've ever made, Severus," Lucius said quietly, referring to his 'hiring' her.

"Indeed," the dark man replied not forgetting why she was there in the first place.

Sitting in a dark corner of the room was a Glamoured redhead in a state shock. Hermione - _his_ Hermione was on stage, wearing next to nothing and in the middle of dancing.

He had moment of clarity; _this wasn't her_. He _knew_ her and he didn't like that she had to do this. She didn't like the spotlight. She didn't like being …ogled like this. He didn't like it either. …but she looked like she was enjoying herself. Smiling, her eyes were shimmering with excitement.

Draco and Harry were Glamoured also, but they couldn't form any coherent thoughts at the moment.

In another corner of the room, sat a dark haired Italian, watching the performance with a small amount of anxiety and a ton of pride. These men were watching and cheering on _his_ Hermione. The other girls were nice to look at as well, but Hermione shined.

Even when the girls came down from the stage to give a mini-lap dance to some blokes, Hermione didn't let the wizard she chose touch her. He tried, but she gave him a seductive look and wagged her finger at him.

Blaise loved that she was sexy, smart, classy... He knew he could take her anywhere and she would act appropriately – he'd have to watch her temper, though; it was infamous.

She could carry on a conversation with anyone, unlike those brainless twits he dated before, and now he didn't have to worry about her pesky sense of right and wrong.

Here she was, dancing at a topless bar, after being fired and her name dragged through the mud. He thought, in yet another moment of clarity, coinciding with a certain redheads, that he could trust her, in fact, she could help him.

His thoughts were interrupted when Marcus quietly tapped him on the shoulder. "Yes?"

"She's being followed."

Marcus nodded discretely, to the other side of the room, to three wizards, staring open-mouthed at the show, wearing glamour. "Do you know who they are?" Blaise asked already having an idea of their identities.

"If I had to hazard a guess, I would say Weasley, Potter and Malfoy." Blaise nodded in agreement.

"Tell Talbot to keep an eye on them," He told the man and then waved him away.

Marcus nodded and walked away.

At the end of her shift, Hermione was still smiling; she was happy the performance went well and she felt good doing it. It wasn't normally her style – being the center of attention, but tonight wasn't too bad. The other girls were great and got as much attention as she did, they loved it, and she was happy they were happy. Truth be told, she'd loved it, too.

Severus and Lucius both left and she was the last one out. They had given her the key to the wards when she and girls stayed late to practice routines, so she 'locked up'.

She had just turned around to leave. "I saw you tonight," he said.

She recognized the voice. Expecting him to gush over her sexy performance like every other male she saw tonight, she turned and was surprised to see pain etched onto his normally jovial face.

She frowned. "What's wrong?" she reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away.

"You aren't the same Hermione I knew… the one I …." He didn't finish the sentence.

She pulled her hand back slowly, hurt that he didn't want her to touch him. "What are you on about, Ron?"

"You! This …this… tart! The one that shakes her arse in strange men's faces, the one who wears under things in front of Merlin and everyone! You used to hate attention, now you relish it? I…. just… I don't know if…. I just don't know," he said his head bowed and his voice a sad whisper in the end.

She knew what he was saying. She understood. They'd known each other for fourteen years, had been through war together, she _knew_ exactly what he was getting at.

She stifled a sob. "Ron, please don't do this," she whispered desperately and reached out for him again.

He saw her movement and his head shot up and his eyes locked on hers with anger. "NO!" he cried and Disapparated.

She dropped her head back to prevent the tears from falling and before she could think straight she found herself walking to Eddie's. "Hi, Eddie," she said as she down on _her_ stool.

Eddie looked at her and sighed. He had hoped he wouldn't see her again. "Hi, Hermione," he greeted as he prepared her drink and slid it her way along with the bottle.

POP!

"Hey, where'd you go?" Draco asked when Ron Apparated in and then frowned.

Harry noticed, too, "Mate, you look like shite!"

"I had to tell her," he said.

Harry and Draco tensed. "You had to tell her what?"

Ron threw a glass into the fireplace and kicked the sofa. "I had to tell her that I couldn't if she continued."

Of course they knew what he was talking about, anyone who knew Ron for any length of time knew how to speak Ron-eeez.

Draco was first to respond. "You are such a fuckin' idiot. What do you think you're little speech did to her? IT'S A JOB, IDIOT! WE ASKED HER TO DO THIS!" he yelled.

Harry didn't trust himself to speak at the moment so he listened.

"I KNOW, BUT SHE DOESN'T HAVE TO LIKE IT!" Ron yelled back frustrated at how he was feeling. He knew it was a job, but his heart was jealous, he didn't like all those men seeing what only he should see.

Harry couldn't stop himself. "So let me get this straight; you realize you love her in fourth year, but you don't do anything about it… ever. You partner with her, but again… you do nothing about this devotion you feel for her, because of whatever nebulous reasons you can come up with in your head. You torture yourself every time she calls you, but still even after she asks you to stay for breakfast, you refuse. You agree with Moody and Kings that she would be perfect for this job, in fact, argue against Malfoy and me about it, saying she should do this and now you have the audacity to … to…. " He didn't get to finish.

Draco had regained some self control. "You do realize she's been in love with you for almost three years?"

Rons head jerked up. "What?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Wow, Malfoy's right you ARE a fucking moron," he said.

"...idiot." Draco said correcting Harry. "He's a fucking idiot."

Harry threw the apple he was eating at Draco and laughed. Ron looked at the two happy faces and thought, _I'm missing something here._

"Bye, Eddie," she said a little drunk.

"Bye, Hermione." He shook his head and wiped down the counter, she was the last customer… again.

She walked out, putting her jacket back on and stopped short. Waiting for her, leaning against his car, was Blaise Zabini. He was wearing stylish jeans and a white sweater that stretched across a muscled chest and brown shoes. He was leaning against the door with his legs crossed at the ankles and his hands clasped in front of him; he looked like the angel of death, swooping down to get her. "Blaise?"

She was still holding her tears back and hiccupped a little, it sounded like her breath hitching.

"Cara…." He opened his arms to her.

Her brain went into overdrive. She knew he was a criminal. She knew he was her job. She knew that she should beg him off until she was more under control. She knew she should be wary of the fact that he knew she was here.

She knew all of this, but found her heart bursting with appreciation at his gesture and her body acting on its own accord.

She walked into his strong, warm arms and let him pull her into the car with him.


	11. I'll run slowly for you

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

_Mr. Malfoy,_

_Please accept Miss Granger's absence until Wednesday. I have stolen her away for a long weekend._

_Regards,_

_B. Zabini_

He handed the parchment to Severus; the dark man scowled harsher than usual, if that were possible.

Both men turned their attention to the door as it slammed against the wall followed by loud angry footsteps by more than one person; and by the sound of it, said angry persons were not petite. It was quite unusual for anyone to be there in the morning, the only reason Malfoy and Snape were present was because Lucius had received the owl at dawn and wanted Severus to read it.

"Okay, where did you leave her?" Draco asked.

"By the door, at the bar," Ron said ashamed.

Harry and Draco were fuming. "Okay," Harry said, sounding strained. "Where would she go from there if she were upset?" he asked the group and himself.

"Eddies," Draco answered.

"Let's go," Harry encouraged.

It was almost four am, and Eddies had been closed for some time, but they knew he lived upstairs so woke the poor man up out of a restful slumber. "Eddie."

"What do you want?" the sleepy man snapped.

"Have you seen Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Yes, she left at two when I closed." He paused and then continued, "She looked mighty upset, do you know what happened?"

Draco and Harry involuntarily looked at Ron, making the old bar owner scowl. "You the one she calls?"

Ron nodded.

The bar owner assumed that they were a couple and so started in on Ron. "You should treat her better. She's nice and pretty – a good woman and you just dismiss her like she's nobody. Why don't you ever come in with her? Or better yet, keep her home. She's ready to settle down, have some kids – if you don't want that too, then cut her loose." The door slammed shut, leaving the three wizards staring at it.

"You think she told him we were seeing each other?" Ron asked not angry just confused.

"No, he's assuming, since it's always you she calls… and if you're lucky she won't stop."

Ron got annoyed for a moment; yes, he was impulsive and yes, he was emotional, but if what they said was true, then she was just as much at fault. She never made a move in his direction either.

_Once_ she asked if he would stay for breakfast, so what?

_One time_!

They said she had been pining for the three years!

"You know she could have said something, too," he said to his friends belligerently.

Harry stopped and said as calmly as he could. "Do you remember the battle at Hogwarts?" Ron looked at him like he was daft, but nodded anyway.

Harry continued, "Remember when she kissed you?"

Ron nodded.

"Do you remember your reaction?"

Ron sighed and nodded.

"Enough said." Harry turned and walked out of the building.

"Wait! What happened?" Draco asked, wanting to know.

Harry looked at Ron, expecting him to tell his own tale. "I … I couldn't ... I was so surprised that she kissed me. She just jumped in my arms and planted one on me … I was so embarrassed. We just went back to doing whatever we were doing and I couldn't face her… for weeks," he finished.

Draco looked at the redhead. "She kissed you and because you were surprised you didn't kiss her back and because you were embarrassed that you were surprised and didn't kiss her back, you didn't speak to her for weeks? Leaving her …and you, to mourn, grieve, and recover by yourselves? Except that you had your family, right?" he asked.

Ron nodded.

"I see. Did she lose anyone in the war?" he asked already knowing full well that her parents were killed.

"Her parents," Ron answered.

Draco just let it go, when Harry touched his arm. Draco was very protective of Hermione, she'd saved him.

Ron, officially, felt like crap. When he saw her again, he would tell her loved her and… well, he'd start there.

Harry noticed Ron's resolve and spoke quietly. "She can't be your partner anymore."

Ron nodded.

They went home and slept for a few hours, thinking that Hermione did the same; they would catch up to her in the morning.

She vaguely remembered his strong arms, the ride to …here. His whispered 'shhhhes' and the gentle way he'd stroked her hair.

She looked around without moving her head; the room was, in a word, palatial. Decorated in rich hues of fall colors: burgundy's, burnt orange, chocolates, golds and dark greens. The walls themselves were painted in a cream color with the accessories the colorful array of fall.

The bed was a King sized mahogany wood four poster bed and she was practically nestled inside a cocoon of down comforter and soft mattress – she never wanted to leave, she was so comfortable.

The curtain around the bed kept the sun at bay as the windows on the East wall let the light flood the room.

She could hear movement and watched, through the haze of the gauze curtain, the closest she had ever seen to perfection in a male form.

She touched her cheek quickly. G_lamours were still in place_, she thought relieved.

The shorts he wore, showed off his sculpted legs and his chest… _oh dear Merlin his chest_, chiseled and broad, was currently sans a covering. She sighed… a little too loudly as the chisel chested man in question turned and smiled. "Good morning. How do you feel?" he asked, pulling back the curtain to see her better.

She sunk down even farther. "Fine. Umm, did we…" she asked, turning red. She was fairly certain she didn't, but one never knew with perfection running around!

He smirked. "No, but you did molest my chest, stomach and arms this morning… I'm embarrassed to say that your touch… well, I had to get out of bed," he said with a smile. She smiled in return and she was suddenly curious.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Running," he said and turned to her when she sat up suddenly. "Can I come?"

He nodded and then pointed to feminine running attire on the edge of the bed. "You knew?"

He shrugged.

She shrugged it off mentally; the creepy feeling she was getting when someone was trying to control her life.

He noticed her hesitation. "You're in great shape and you were an Auror so I just thought that if you didn't run, you, at least, exercised. Please, forgive my presumption," he said, hoping that eased her mind.

She gave him a small smile. "Thank you, yes. I love running," she said and was going to jump out of the cocoon, but wasn't sure what she was wearing so she peeked under the covers.

He chuckled at her. "Pajamas," he said.

She got up and he gasped a bit, a small cotton t-shirt with matching pajama shorts that hugged every curve she had. She turned and he watched as her beautiful breasts moved slightly under the fabric. He could make out the whisper of her nipples through the thin night shirt.

He swallowed.

She watched his already dark indigo eyes smoke with desire when she stepped out of bed. She felt powerful and did something brazenly UN-Hermione-like, "Do you like what you see?" she whispered.

She could feel her nipples pebble at his intense gaze.

He noticed, too, because he licked his lips in response.

He walked to stand directly in front of her; she could feel the heat from his body. He was hunched down a bit so that his cheek was near her temple and his lips touched the top shell of her ear.

She shivered.

He brushed his chest against her nipples and she wanted to moan. She felt the fabric between her legs become wet and hot from her gushing at his nearness.

He took a deep breath through his nose. "I can smell you witch. You smell sweet… so sweet," he purred.

He hadn't touched her and she was panting… _it had been so long_….

KNOCK. KNOCK.

She was jolted out of the moment with a startled look at the door.

Blaise growled and turned on his heel, leaving Hermione to regain the ability to breathe. "I'll just get dressed. Bathroom?" she asked.

He nodded towards a door and she patted inside.

She performed a cleaning spell on her teeth, leaving her with minty fresh breath and splashed some water on her face.

Luckily, she was wearing a hair tie on her wrist and braided her long mane quickly.

She dressed in the clothes provided, noting that they were the perfect size and color. She giggled to herself, at the picture she made, she loved it!

She twirled in the mirror – Pink and white Soccer pants, pink sports tank top and white sports bra. Even her trainers were pink and white. The only thing she needed was her Gryffindor cap, she would need to transfigure something… she thought.

She stepped out and found her shoe from last night. "This will do," she said and transfigured the article into her beloved houses' ball cap.

She turned around to take in the room and walked to the windows, rolling hillside and greenery.

England did have beautiful landscape; but this seemed different somehow; especially since it was sunny.

Blaise reentered the room. "Ready?" he asked and then rolled his eyes as the emblem on the face of her ball cap came into focus.

"I'll run slowly today since you don't know your way around," he told her authoritatively.

She snorted as they walked together down the stairs of the gorgeous Manor.

"You'll run slowly? For me?" she asked.

"Yes," he confirmed confused.

"HA! Maybe **I'll** run slowly for **you,**" she teased and brushed passed him.

She stopped abruptly just as he shut the door – he almost ran into her.

She turned and was facing him. She was smiling; she knew he wasn't expecting her to stop. She giggled when he stopped himself from barreling into her.

"Just one question," she said and continued at his raised eyebrow. "Where are we?"

He smirked. "My home in Italy. Welcome to Caperelli Castle," he said, watching her face for a reaction.

Her brained zipped into its files of plausible reactions and her mental self pulled a folder out and held it triumphantly for viewing… she repeated it. "Caperelli?" like she had heard the name before.

She said it again. "Caperelli... Why do I know that name?" she asked and turned around, pretending to walk and think. He passed her and she stopped. "As in Caperelli Crime Family?" she whispered the last two words in a stage whisper.

"Yes," he responded.

After a brief silence, she said, "After we come back and …have coffee – lots of it, Can I ask some questions?"

"Yes," he answered and turned around.

_She had called him… again, but this time was different. Her words were clear, not slurred and it was the afternoon. She invited him over for dinner._

_When he arrived, she was wearing a white cotton sundress that wrapped loosely around her curves, emphasizing her legs._

_She smiled and they sat for dinner. They talked and laughed like usual and afterwards he pulled her up and apologized, "I'm so sorry, 'Mione. Will you forgive me?"_

_"Of course, Ronnie. I can't breathe without you, Yes, I forgive you," she said, touching her hands to his face. He loved when she called him Ronnie. She hadn't in a while…_

_"I… I love you 'Mione," he said, wrapping his arms around her small waist tightly. He buried his face in her hair and kissed her neck._

_"Oh Ronnie, I love you, too, but I know what you want…" she said and wiggled her body against his seductively._

_He was surprised by her action, but dismissed it when his body started reacting to her. She pressed her slight form closer into his, making him moan._

_"You want me to dance for you," she whispered and pulled away from him swinging her hips from side to side._

_She slid out of her grasp and trailed her hands down her breasts. _

_He shook his head and stepped towards her. _

_The room shifted and he looked around. He was sitting stage side and his Hermione was in front of him, wagging her bum at him._

_He felt angry and disgusted. Wizards were whooping and hollering at him to put a Galleon on the stage near her hands._

He woke with a jolt!

He got out of bed and washed up. The other two were eating breakfast already; he could hear the spoons clinking on the bowls.

He just wanted Coffee.

They Flooed one by one to Hermione's flat. "'Mione?" Ron called.

Draco was in the kitchen, Harry in the bathroom, Ron in the bedroom – nothing.

"Let's go to the bar."

They were worried now and burst inside the bar like men on a mission. "Where is she?" Ron asked the two wizards.

Lucius stood when his son entered, "Son…" he whispered, but didn't move.

Severus looked curious. "You've lost her?" he asked.

Draco hadn't taken his eyes off of his father and Harry was torn between wanting to offer comfort and support to Draco or holding Ron back from trying to hex Snape; so he explained, "She and Ron had …words last night. She went to Eddies and left at closing. She hasn't returned to her flat, her bed doesn't look slept in and her flat is empty. We just want to know that she's okay."

Lucius pulled out a parchment and floated it over to where they were standing; Draco caught it and read it aloud.

"What the hell is she doing with Blaise?" Ron yelled.

Harry and Draco shot him a look. "Right."

Lucius quirked an eyebrow and Severus gave them an intense stare. "You know something?" Severus asked.

Harry and Draco looked at each other, Severus already knew most of it and Lucius could be trusted at least as far as this was concerned… unless he was in on the crime, then they would be screwed, but they didn't think so.

Draco looked at his estranged father. "She's working undercover… here. None of that 'fall from grace' stuff is true."

Lucius didn't seem surprised.

"You knew?" Harry asked.

"I'd guessed," Lucius answered, waiting for the rest of it.

"Well, since Zabini had shown interest in Hermione, Moody assigned her the task of digging up some evidence about him, especially now, since he just stepped into his grandfathers shoes as Head of the Caperelli Crime Family," Harry said.

"You know she likes Mr. Zabini," Severus told them.

Ron's eyes darted to Harrys in question. Severus recognized the exchange. "She's been in love with you for years Weasley, but you're too dense to do anything about it so when she was, again, rejected by you, I suggested she move on." He hesitated, "Though, we cautioned her about Zabini," he said.

"What kind of words exactly?" Lucius asked.

This question made all three boys uncomfortable; they knew it would not be received well.

"We watched the performance," Draco said and immediately put his hands up. "I know, she didn't want us to, but we couldn't seem to help ourselves. Anyway, Weasley here got a bit …jealous and confronted her."

Both older wizards shook their heads. "Well, now you should leave her be. Zabini has taken her somewhere and if she's licking her wounds, she won't want to see you three," Severus said and walked away.

Ron and Harry moved to leave, but Draco couldn't seem to uproot himself. He swallowed. "I… " He wasn't ready for this; he looked at his father and nodded.

Lucius watched his son leave. He took heart that he didn't sneer and seemed as emotionally unsteady as he did, maybe this was the first step, he thought.


	12. Do as I say

They ran at a steady pace, she had no trouble keeping up with him, though she mentally laughed, thinking they must look kind of funny; him with long strides and her taking three steps to every one of his.

When they finally reached the front door, they were both panting and sweating. She walked in a circle for a little bit to cool down and then started to stretch. When he saw her shrugging her shoulders to work out the kinks, he walked over to her. She looked at him curiously. He twirled his finger, motioning for her to turn around. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling them back towards him, pushing them up slowly, circling them forward and then pressing them down. He did that a couple more times and she sighed, it felt good.

He did it with a little more force and stretched her muscles more than she would have been able to do on her own.

A memory flashed in her head of the time when she and Ron had finished running; she had been complaining that her back was sore, so he grabbed her and hugged her tight, popping her back suddenly.

She shrieked at him at first, but then realized her back felt much better and he had just stood there smiling at her smugly… that was Ron, well intended, but clumsy. It dawned on her that she liked smooth and distinctly unclumsy.

"Thank you," she told him and turned to repay the courtesy, but realized quickly that she was not effective because of her smaller stature – he was quite tall. "Ummm, I don't think I'm doing much… You're too tall," she quipped.

He chuckled. "Maybe you're too short," he replied.

She flicked him in his ear.

"Owww!" he looked at her fingering his ear lobe.

"Hmmmmf," she said and walked inside, head held high and shoulders back.

Crabbe was standing in the foyer. "Good Morning, Crabbe," she said surprised to see him, but happy to see that he was alive and well.

He tipped his head. "Miss Granger," he replied quietly.

"Hermione," she corrected and stopped in front of him. She was going to make him an ally if it killed her… and it might.

He shifted his eyes to the tall man behind her. Blaise nodded and Crabbe returned his focus on the little, but stubborn witch in front of him. He almost smirked at her determined expression, but decided against it. "Hermione," he greeted.

She smiled and walked down the hallway. Noticing a sunroom with a deck, she walked in that direction. Blaise followed her, curious as to where she was going and what she planned to do.

She found the lovely sunroom and walked outside to the deck. The weather was lovely if a bit cool, but it felt nice after the run.

She stretched once and began walking lunges. Once done, she got down for sit-ups for what seemed like forever, then push-ups – she rotated like this for another forty-five minutes.

Blaise watched her routine for about fifteen minutes before he continued his exercise with pull-ups and crunches.

When she was finished, she sprawled out on the deck breathing heavy. "Finished?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Do you want to eat now or after cleaning up?" he asked, standing over her, casting a long shadow.

She looked at him, but couldn't see him clearly; he looked like a big sweaty sexy shadow with white teeth. She turned her head and sniffed. "Shower first," she said, wrinkling her nose.

He chuckled again and nodded.

She grabbed the hand he offered and he pulled her up.

"Ummm …" she was about to ask where her shower was… she wasn't ready to go all the way … or at least she didn't want to put herself in the position of wanting to, but she didn't want to offend him either. Everyone knew how violent the Caperelli history was, there was no need to be obstinate. She thought.

He looked at her and read her concern. "Your bathroom is just there. I've had the bathroom stocked with everything you'll need. The bedroom is through the other door and the closet is full of clothes. We'll eat… talk and then go do the tourist thing, if you'd like. Tuscany is beautiful this time of year. If you aren't too tired we'll return to London tonight and go to a club… a friend of mine owns 'Merlins Wand'. We can invite some of your girlfriends if you'd like," he said.

"Everything sounds great, with the exception of 'the talk'," she said with air quotes. "May I use one of your owls to let Jenna and Mary Ann know?" she asked

He looked at her and smirked. "Yes. Pixie!"

POP!

"Master Bini," the little elf said ears plastered to her head.

"Miss Granger would like to send an owl. Deliver it to the owlry for her when she's ready," he told the little creature. "Yes, Master Bini," she replied.

Hermione frowned at his tone, but didn't say anything… yet.

Pixie turned to Hermione and waited for instruction. Hermione looked at Blaise. "Thank you. Meet you downstairs in an hour? And what time should I say to meet us at the club?"

He stepped forward; she could feel the heat from his body. "Ten p.m.," he whispered into her ear. Her breath hitched.

As close as he was to her, she didn't move, she couldn't; she felt like her feet were glued to the floor.

He inhaled. She felt mildly self-conscience at this, she was sweaty. "You still smell sweet, Hermione," he whispered.

He stepped back and picked up her hand, kissing her knuckles. "See you in an hour then," he said and walked inside his room.

She was dumb struck; she looked from the door to Pixie back to the door. Pixie looked just as surprised.

"Come with me, Pixie," Hermione said kindly.

Ron hadn't slept. He had been sitting in the same position on the couch for hours, staring off into space, thinking about all of the opportunities they'd had, but didn't take.

Ron accepted that he had been a coward, afraid of rejection, but she wasn't without blame.

He knew that she knew she could talk to him… to all of them about whatever was bothering her, but no. She was sensitive to a point of belligerent independence. She never asked for help, always _always_ refused to lean on people. _Ridiculous stubborn behavior,_ he thought.

He heard the door click and the sofa dip with the weight of another person. "Hey, mate. Have you slept?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head.

Harry nodded and leaned forward, his elbows rested on his knees and his hands were clasped in between.

He sat, facing forward and watched the fire. "I'm sorry," he said. "We shouldn't have yelled at you… or blamed you." He paused and glanced at Ron to ensure the redhead was listening before he continued, "We are all protective of her, Malfoy especially. You know she's the reason he switched sides. I love her, he loves her… you love her, and sometimes we are blind to her rather glaringly obvious stubborn streak and horrid temper." He said the last with a cringe. She had hexed him more than once after igniting her temper; after six Jelly-legs Jinxes one became wary.

Ron snorted. "So what now? I love her, but I hate… I don't know." He mumbled something, but they didn't hear.

Draco came out of nowhere and plopped down beside the two.

Draco made a face. "Get her attention, if you want it. I'm going to share some information with you, Weasley. I was hoping that it would dawn on you, but alas it has not."

Ron rolled his eyes, but didn't speak, waiting for the Slytherin to bestow his wisdom on them.

Harry was interested, too, but didn't hide it as well as Ron – surprisingly.

"Granger… is a girl; a woman; a _female,_" he emphasized the last word.

Harry blinked and Ron spoke exasperatedly. "That's it? She's a girl?"

Draco sighed and shook his head. "Obviously, you Gryffindors overlook the finer details of … well just about everything. One issue at a time, then: fierce independence. Why do you think that is?" he asked.

"Just the way she is," Harry answered.

"No, she was an only child for ten years, then her two best friends were male; one of them the-boy-who-lived, and followed them right into war. She had to prove herself valuable and so couldn't rely upon you two. She needs affection, some physical accolade of her worth… to you, by you." Draco looked at them hopeful.

"… but she's never been the touchy feely type," Ron said.

"With you maybe, but have you ever seen her with other women?" Draco asked.

Harry had and Draco saw a spark of recognition. "In school, her and Ginny were always touching during conversation, a hug whenever one of them left… she doesn't have many other girlfriends," Harry told them.

"Right and now she's been an Auror for a while and can't exactly be girly as it would be considered weak. Next issue: self-esteem. She knows she's pretty, you can tell by the way she dances, but she doesn't date." Draco looked at them pointedly. "She isn't one of those people to date casually. She didn't in school and she doesn't now."

"What about Viktor Krum? That was only one date," Harry reminded.

Ron answered this time. "Their relationship lasted almost the entire year and she visited him over the summer, before they decided that it wasn't going to work. They're close friends and still owl each other twice a month."

Harry was surprised. "Wow."

"Yeah," Ron answered.

"And then there was Lupin; quiet, unassuming Lupin. She took care of him, literally, after the moon. Her first love. He deflowered her," Draco said softly and Ron cringed.

"He died," Harry finished.

"Rescuing her," Ron added.

"I'm fairly certain she hasn't had sex since," Draco said, scrunching his face in distaste.

"No Way!" Ron cried horrified at the thought.

"Way," Draco replied just as horrified.

"Why not?" Harry asked mildly uncomfortable, analyzing his best friend like this, but was finding it extremely enlightening.

"Guilt. She has a terrible conscience. She is still human though, and needs human contact," Draco said. "Third issue: She was raped... brutally." All three men flinched, but Draco continued, "She's scarred and scared of being hurt. She feels dirty and used. It's why she calls you after the bar closes; she needs to feel protected, safe without strings. If you ever bring it up to her, she would say she was drunk, blaming it on the alcohol, but I seriously doubt that she ever lets herself get out of control to the point of drunken behavior," Draco told them, staring at them, knowing what he said was sinking in slowly, but surely.

He continued after a brief silence. "So let's recap shall we?

**Issue One** - fierce independence. **Resolution**: Don't coddle her. Treat her as a partner, listen to her when she speaks and reiterate what you heard her say.

**Issue Two** – Self Esteem, this is for you, Weasley. **Resolution:** If you decide she's the one for you, 'make' her listen to you, tell her all of the things you _know_ about her, everything that makes you want her."

"Everything?" Ron asked, turning a little green.

"Every sordid detail and be affectionate, but not overly so – touch her hand while you talk. Whisper in her ear, brush your fingertips down her arm; let her feel you near her without being overwhelmed by your presence, be subtle," Draco said, smirking, knowing that subtlety was not one of the Gryffindor strengths.

"**Issue Three** – Rape. **Resolution**: accept her without her Glamour, without her bravado. In other words, don't judge her. She will need to get past the issues that resulted with the…well you know, but we can be there for her without condemning her," Draco finished quite proud of himself.

Harry stared at his partner. "When you did you become so …insightful?"

"Slytherin, we observe those around us, besides I'm not called the walking talking orgasm for nothing," Draco informed them with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "Coffee?" he asked.

They both nodded.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Ron opened the window and let the unknown owl inside. It thrust its leg out, and Ron untied the parchment. The owl flew away not waiting for a response.

He recognized Hermione's feminine script and Draco's words sunk in a little deeper.

He unrolled it and read:

_My apologies if the bird woke you, I needed to send this. _

_Tonight 10 pm Merlins Wand. Don't be too obvious, arrive early if you can._

_Please send word to Severus that I would like Jenna, Justina and Mary Ann to meet me there._

_Talk later, _

'_Mione._

Ron handed the letter to Draco and Harry. They were reading the letter, shoulders touching, heads bent close together, Draco held one side of the parchment while Harry held the other.

Ron tilted his head and watched them. He wondered if they realized what they were doing.

She sat down at the table and blushed when her stomach grumbled. "Sorry," she said.

"We better eat then," he said with a smile

Food Magically appeared and they ate in silence for a few minutes before Blaise spoke, "So what do you want to know?"

"How are you related to the Caperelli Family?" she left out the crime part in her attempt to be subtle.

He smiled and nodded in appreciation for not continuing to place labels. "Michael Caperelli is my maternal grandfather. My mother is his only daughter."

"Does she have brothers?"

"She did. Three, but they have all passed on," he said without emotion.

"You're an only child?" she was pretty sure she knew this as most purebloods were only able to have one child if any at all. It was a defect from too much marrying within families.

"I am – as you are," he said, matching her.

Hard question. "Did your grandfather… retire?"

"Yes."

"…and you were …promoted?"

"Yes."

She took a sip of her coffee. "Are you planning to …change the way your family does business?"

He smiled – she was very good at talking around something. "Not entirely." He was good at being vague.

She took a deep breath, here goes nothing, "Why me? You're powerful, rich, young and … attractive (she didn't want to give his ego too much fluff). I imagine your usual …companion is tall, angelically beautiful and refined." She couldn't help but add, "They probably don't eat… I bet you save a ton of Galleons not taking them to restaurants."

He laughed at her remarks and took a drink of his coffee. "I don't laugh with them. I don't have any kind of meaningful conversation with them. They don't share my interests," he said.

"Then why date them?"

"Like you said, I'm young and wanted to play, but now I'm looking for something more. I think you are beautiful. You have a body to die for, luxurious hair that any man would want to run his fingers through or curl his fist into…" he said the last with a seductive grin. "You have an opinion that you can actually back up with logic and you're not afraid… fearless. You were fearless in school, during the war, as an Auror… I like fearless. I want a partner," he finished.

"You want a partner?" she said, knowing he didn't mean partner, he meant _partner_.

"Yes."

Ding! "You want me to run your security; make sure your jobs go smoothly." She felt mild disappointment… more than mild. She wanted to both laugh and eat a tub of chocolate ice cream. He wasn't attracted to her; this was all some courtship to gain her loyalty so she'd work for him.

He read every emotion on her face and inhaled. He had wanted her from the moment he'd seen her again. He wanted to bury himself inside of her and never come out. He wanted to listen to her and argue with her and looked forward to the challenge that was Hermione Granger. "And other things… " he said.

"What other things?"

"I want you. I want your body, your mind, your laughter, your anger, your passion, your intelligence, your heart. I. want. you."

"What's in it for me, besides being able to molest your chest, stomach and arms in the morning?" she asked, relieved and trying to keep it light. She was also trying to suppress a girlish giggle of flattery.

"You can have whatever you like," he said, watching her with his intense indigo eyes.

"What's the catch?" she asked, averting her gaze. His look was intense and doing things to her that she hadn't felt in some time. A thought trickled by that Ron had made her feel safe and comforted, but not desirable and definitely didn't make her want to jump on his lap and snog the breath out of him.

"What are you thinking?"

She swallowed and met his stare. "You make me feel, Blaise. No one has made me _feel_ in so long…"

He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them before sighing with determination. "You're mine, Hermione. Nobody else will touch you without my approval. You will cut ties with your former… associates, with the exception of Malfoy – we're still friends, but Potter and Weasley will no longer remain in your address book.

You will do what I say when I say it and you will not contradict me in public," he said his tone final.

His confidence and the commanding tone made her shiver with lust. Of course, she was not one to just blindly obey; _he had to know this_, she thought. "You're asking a lot, Blaise," she said and he smirked. "Which part, Cara? The 'you're mine' part or the 'do what I say' part?" he asked.

She quirked an eyebrow and took a sip of pumpkin juice. There was a contemplative silence while they finished up the meal. She didn't answer him, letting him come to his own conclusion.

Blaise didn't want to pressure her any more than he had; he knew he had to be straight forward, but at the same time treat her with kid gloves.

She frowned. "You're still friends with Malfoy?"

"Not as close as we were, but I see him sometimes, have a drink occasionally." He shrugged.

"I won't follow you blindly. It would be a disservice to you if I knew something was not right and let you continue for fear of punishment, because someone else was in the room, but I will be tactful…well, as tactful as I can be while making my point.

I will accept assignment from you, but make no mistake that if you are mean to me, you and I will have words… and Blaise, when I say 'words' I mean one of us will walk away teary-eyed and bleeding and it won't be me," she said, looking him dead in the eye.

He knew she was serious… he liked it.

"And your associates?" he asked, watching the emotions cross her face; _she was not built to lie that's for certain, _he thought.

"I want to say good bye without your …people watching me. Also, you should know that Moody has me followed; he doesn't believe I am just another citizen, he thinks I have been … what was the word he used, oh yes, _corrupted_. He feels betrayed by me and once they see us together it will become priority to lock us in Azkaban we breathe our last breath," she said.

He nodded, he figured.

She had one last thing she wanted to say, but was hesitant – he watched her quietly waiting. "There are some things in my past that …. Uh I … well, I just need…" she was stammering

"…time," he supplied.

"Yes," she said relieved.

He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. "I want you to feel comfortable with me, Hermione. I can wait."

She was struck with how tender he seemed… she had to remind herself that he wasn't the head of a crime family for his tender ways. Still, she wanted to believe him; believe that with her, he would be this man for her. The man she needed him to be.

"Why do you want to see my scars… they aren't pretty," she said. "I usually let the scar on my face show at work, because it scared criminals. Can you believe it? You know how hideous it has to be if it does that?" she added with a self-deprecating laugh.

"I want the real you, that's it." He continued to brush is thumb across her knuckles. "Then you accept?"

"Yes," she whispered her heart pounding.


	13. Mad? No Sexy and Wanton? Yes

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The boys arrived at the club a half hour before Hermione was set to arrive. Harry looked at the long line and watched the large bouncer at the door let in pretty witches and turned away most of the wizards.

Ron was looking at the building, wondering how they were going to fade into the background. He subconsciously smoothed his shirt.

Draco smirked, knowing how expensive drinks were here and that witches came here to catch themselves wealthy wizards.

"We're never going to get in" Harry whinged.

Draco looked at him like he was daft. "O Ye of little faith," he replied with an arched eyebrow. "Follow me, gentlemen."

The three men walked confidently to the bouncer. "Name," the large man said.

"Malfoy," Draco answered with confident boredom.

The bouncer nodded and waved his wand, dismantling part of the ward, allowing the three to enter.

They made their way to the bar, twisting and turning their bodies in order to avoid all out collisions with others inside the already crowded bar. Draco raised his finger inconspicuously at the bartender and ordered three fire-whiskeys.

Harry tuned in briefly to the music playing, thinking that it was strange that a woman would sing about an umbrella.

Ron was looking around, thinking this was a really nice place and wondering why he hadn't been there before when he watched Malfoy drop three galleons on the counter and get no change in return. He leaned over and asked, "Are these drinks one Galleon per?" He knew why he hadn't been here before.

Draco nodded and turned around to admire the scenery…the scenery being the scantily clad witches currently walking passed him, their eyes roving over his body.

Ron rolled his eyes and Harry gripped his glass tighter, which Ron thought odd, but shrugged it off.

It was another twenty minutes and one drink later that Draco saw Crabbe and Talbot enter, placing themselves at opposite ends of the floor, backs to the wall, watching the crowd. Draco nudged Harry and stuck his chin out to point his vision, but caught Harry's nod before he made a move, signaling the wizard had already spied them.

Draco slid his gaze to Ron and noticed the beefy red head saw them too.

Another five minutes went by and Jenna, Mary Ann and Justina walked in, chatting excitedly amongst each other.

The girls didn't know them, but Justina looked toward Draco and gave him a coquettish smile then returned her attention to her friends.

Harry snorted and Ron shook his head.

In between songs and the DJ talking, time slowed down for Ron. He looked towards the door and saw an angel, standing there with her hand in the crook of Blaise Zabini's elbow.

She was smiling and her head was turned, looking at someone behind her while Blaise surveyed the club and nodded to each of his sentries.

Ron was pretty sure he wasn't breathing, she looked beautiful. Her skin was shimmering. She was wearing a chocolate colored silk dress that was simple, straight and short – ridiculously short. Being of such a small stature one wouldn't expect her legs to go on for miles, but they did and that dress only accentuated the fact.

She was wearing gold jewelry and gold strappy heels that tied with a ribbon a bit higher than her ankle.

Her dark hair was laying in soft ringlets down her back – she wore it in a half pony tail.

Blaise said something to her and she laughed again while he led her past the bar to a VIP room up the stairs, she didn't glance at the three men, who had been her friends for years and they didn't seem to notice her either, but instead kept their faces forward and only their eyes followed the lovely woman up the stairs.

"What can I get you, Mr. Zabini?"

Blaise looked at Hermione. "Vodka on the rocks with a twist of lemon," she said.

Blaise repeated her order and for himself ordered a glass of brandy.

He handed her the drink and kissed her cheek. "I have some business to take care of… I saw your girlfriends downstairs, why don't you go dance with them for a while and I'll see you soon… If you need anything Crabbe and Marcus are downstairs as well."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "For your protection, of course," he said, answering her unspoken question. She nodded and stood, taking her drink with her.

He stopped her. "You look stunning tonight," he said his lips whispered in her ear.

She offered him a sly smile and walked downstairs – truth be told, she felt damn sexy right now.

She was attacked, suddenly, by a gaggle of girls all squealing in delight. "Granger, this is great! I've always wanted to come here," Justina gushed.

Hermione sighed. "I need a favor."

The girls pulled her to a dark spot in the club and waited. "There is a big guy right behind me, standing ram rod straight, see him?" Hermione was looking at Mary Ann. The other girl nodded.

"Keep him busy for a while." Mary Ann smiled. "Of course," she said and sauntered off to her 'mark'.

Once Hermione watched Crabbe smile a little at the little witch, she returned her attention to Jenna and Justina. "There's another one at my 5 o'clock, across the room. He won't be as easy as the other so I'll need both of you. Keep him busy for as long as you can. If it looks like he is getting bored…" - the other two girls looked at her like they were offended – "…Not that he could with you two around, but just in case, spill something on him – create a diversion. Okay?"

Jenna smiled. "Sneaky sneaky, Granger," she teased.

Hermione smiled. "I just need a little time," she pleaded.

Jenna nodded and went to the bar first to get a drink, then made her way to the man's location. Justina decided to make her presence known to the man right away and headed for him immediately.

At fifteen minutes, both men were focused on the witches in front of them and Hermione moved to an even darker corner, adjacent to the bar. There she stood, watching her partners and friends.

A song came on that she liked – Usher: In this club.

It was then that Ron caught her eyes. Across the room, whiskey brown met clear blue.

"Go on mate. Subtle, but direct. Make your presence known, but don't overwhelm," Draco reminded out of the side of his mouth.

"Right. Subtle. Direct." Ron sighed – _now or never,_ he thought.

_Looking in your eyes,  
While you're on the other side,  
(And I think that shorty I gotta thing for you)  
You're doing it on purpose, wind it and work it.  
I can tell by the way that you're looking at me, girl._

Ron walked; shoulders back his eyes never leaving hers.

She stood, watching him.

Subtle but direct…. Subtle but direct… Subtle but direct he recited in his head the whole way.

_I wanna make love in this club.  
In this club  
In this club  
In this club_

He stood in front of her his breathing labored; he was no more than a hairs breath away from touching her skin.

Her head tilted up, his head bowed – his cheek close to her temple, his lips almost touching the shell of her ear. "Hermione…" he breathed.

She breathed in deeply, taking in his masculine scent and closing her eyes. Something was off. His presence wasn't having the effect she'd thought it would. She took a miniscule step closer to him and he could feel the heat from her body.

_If you didn't know, you're the only thing that's on my mind.  
'cause the way I'm staring at you got me wanting to give it to you all night_

His left hand trailed up her outer thigh softly to her rest on her hip. His touch made her startle. He smiled, thinking that was a good thing.

It wasn't bad, but it wasn't…

She closed her eyes, wanting to end that line of thought.

Ron thought his heart was going to punch a hole through his chest.

Hermione caught sight of his pulse on his neck; it was beating wildly.

_Might as well give me a kiss, if we keep touching like this  
I know you're scared, baby, they don't know what we're doing.  
Let's both get undressed right here, keep it up girl, and, I swear.  
I'm gonna give it to you non-stop.  
And I don't care, who's watching._

Ron began to describe all the things he loved about her as he touched her. His fingers trailed down her arms, to the very tips of her fingers and back up again.

She took a step back and felt the wall. There was nowhere she could go now. She swallowed and focused on what he was saying. She thought he would be giving her information and letting her know that they were there in case she needed them. He was her partner and they were all her best friends.

Focusing on his whispers, she realized that's not what he was saying at all. "The quirk of your lips when you tease me.

The brilliant way your mind works to find a solution. The way you suck on your quill when you're researching.

The way your jaw grinds when you read something you disagree with. The tender curve of your waist. The way you stretch after running.

The way your hair crackles with electricity when you get angry. The way your eyes flash when we tease you." He stopped for a second and nuzzled her neck.

She tensed and gasped, looking around for a way out.

This wasn't right. This was strange and mildly alarming. How could this be? She'd thought for so long that she was in love with him.

_I wanna make love in this club.  
In this club  
In this club  
In this club_

She exhaled and he stopped and slumped. "I can't do this, 'Mione. I thought I could, but I can't. It just doesn't feel right." He was looking at her with a pained expression.

"Thank Gods!" she exclaimed.

He started laughing and nodded.

"This isn't us, is it? At least, not sober," he stated, giving her a sad smile.

She shook her head. "I had this speech, dirty and seductive, but we're best friends… better than best friends, yeah?"

"Yes," she answered, relieved.

"We got you, 'Mione."

She nodded and walked away as the song ended.

Draco and Harry watched his facial expression as he walked back and if Hermione hadn't been watching him they would have laughed and slapped the man on the back like he had made the winning goal at a Quidditch Tournament. But when he got there, they understood that the two had come to an agreement of sorts. They weren't soul mates, they were family.

Harry clamped his hand on Ron's shoulder and squeezed. Draco nodded and took a sip of his drink.

The three grinned and watched as her gaggling friends came running back.


	14. Whatever you like

"I like him," Mary Ann said excitedly.

"Who?" Hermione asked confused.

"Vincent."

"Yes! Vincent…." she answered and then raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Vincent Crabbe?" she asked.

Mary Ann sighed. "Yes, Vincent Crabbe."

Hermione wanted to laugh, but settled for a smile instead. "You like him then?"

"Yes. He's sweet and muscle-y and a gentleman," she said wistfully.

Hermione and Jenna both rolled their eyes. "Where's Justina?" Hermione asked.

Jenna snorted. "Molesting Marcus. You know she doesn't waste time."

Hermione snickered and glanced at the large man currently wrapped around a very happy Justina. He was whispering something in her ear and she giggled wildly.

Hermione shrugged humorously and returned her focus to Mary Ann. "So what makes Crabbe so…sweet?" Hermione wasn't convinced yet that he was sweet exactly, nice… maybe.

"He asked me things about me and when we danced his hands traveled no lower than the small of my back. He kissed my neck softly and he didn't seem to care that my mother was a Muggle born witch," she finished with a smile.

"Ah ha. Well, that's great, Mary Ann," Hermione encouraged and looked at Crabbe, looking at them. "You should get back. He looks like he wants to eat you," Hermione told Mary Ann.

The smitten girl giggled and squeezed Hermione's arm. "Don't wait up," she told her friends and sauntered back to a happy Crabbe.

Jenna and Hermione watched as he smiled at her and pulled her into his embrace.

They looked at each other and chuckled. "I found a handsome wizard that I plan to make mine, so I'll see you," Jenna said, giving Hermione her man-eater smile.

"Go get 'im tiger!" Hermione replied, smiling.

She stood alone, watching the crowd for a moment when a deep voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "You look like you need this, more than I do," he said, handing her a glass of clear liquid with a lemon, resting on the rim.

She looked at him with a question in her eyes. "Vodka with a twist of lemon," he replied.

She took the glass. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, love," he said and walked away.

_That was strange_; she thought and took a drink after she cast a quick purity spell on it to make sure it was actually Vodka with lemon and not some lust potion or worse.

She walked up stairs, back into the VIP room that they were in before, and opened the door.

She turned the corner and paused gracefully when she encountered a room full of wizards.

"Hermione, please come in and meet everyone," Blaise said, standing with the rest of the wizards.

"Oh, Did I interrupt anything?" she asked and walked confidently into the room.

Most of the wizards in the room couldn't string two words together much less answer her… all they could think about were her beautiful, toned, long, smooth legs.

Blaise shook his head and motioned for her to continue.

The wizards sat down as she walked closer to the couches on which they were sitting. The couches were in a square U shape- a long sofa in the middle with a square coffee table in front, one love seat to the left perpendicular to the sofa and on the other side, facing the love seat were two large chairs.

Hermione walked up to a now sitting Blaise on the sofa and bent forward a bit to kiss him on the cheek.

Her dress was already short, but when she bent forward the hem rose slightly in the back, showing more leg and stopping right under her bum.

The two men on the love seat tilted their heads unconsciously angling for a better view of her hidden treasure.

The man whom she was bent over grunted quietly when her leg brushed against his and her scent permeated his nostrils.

When she stood, Blaise took her hand and pulled her gently onto his lap, surprising everyone in the room. He never showed any kind of public affection to any bird… ever.

"Hermione, please let me introduce you…" he gestured to the man sitting next to him (the one that grunted), "Theo Nott." Hermione smiled at the thin man and gave him a piercing stare that told him she remembered their encounter in school.

"Mr. Nott, A pleasure to see you again," she said sweetly.

He tilted his head respectfully, but didn't speak. Blaise watched the exchange, making a mental note to ask her about it later.

He continued his introductions, motioning to the two on the love seat. "Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey."

Hermione smiled and raised her glass to Marcus. "A pleasure to meet you both. Mr. Flint, thank you for the drink," she said.

Marcus actually stood and took her hand to kiss her knuckles. "The pleasure, Miss Granger, is mine; I assure you," he said and sat down.

"Show off," Pucey jibed at his friend as he also stood to take her hand. "Miss Granger, you are a vision. It's an honor to make your acquaintance."

She swallowed a girlish giggle and tilted her head not trusting herself to speak.

She, of course, in all her giddiness, missed Blaise glaring daggers at his former house mates.

Blaise looked to the chairs and introduced the two men sitting there. "Justin Finch-Fletchly and Gregory Goyle." They tilted their heads in greeting.

Hermione didn't speak to the two men nor did she tilt her head – she only gave them a look in acknowledgment; she never liked either… with vigor. Blaise made another mental note.

"Goyle, Where's Crabbe?" Blaise asked.

"He's busy with some bird the mu…. Miss Granger sent his way," Goyle sneered.

She quirked her eyebrow at his near slip and smiled at Blaise. "I can call off the dogs if you need him here," she said and stood to walk over to the large window in front of them, allowing them the view of the entire floor of the club.

She smiled when she spotted the two… talking of all things. She looked to the other end of the club to see Justina perched on Marcus Talbots lap with his arms wrapped around her; they were snogging like mad. Hermione stifled a snort and it came out a squeak/giggle instead.

She turned to face the curious men with a smile and was about to say something sarcastic, but pulled up short when she realized who they were and where she was and what she was supposed to be doing.

She cleared her throat. "I'll just go get Crabbe. If you'll excuse me," she said and walked quickly to the door.

Once it clicked shut, every one of those wizards stood up quickly and looked around the club to see Crabbe talking with some cute bird and then looked around for Marcus. Flint and Pucey burst out laughing and Blaise and Nott chuckled quietly.

Justin and Goyle only sneered… seemed that was something they were good at.

"Did Hermione send her to Talbot?" Blaise asked.

Adrian nodded. "Yes. She wanted them kept busy while she was off doing something else."

Blaise stiffened. "What else?"

"She didn't do anything, I was watching her most of the time, though, Weasley came and spoke to her." Flint added and watched Blaise for reaction.

The darker wizard turned a quarter. "What happened?"

Flint shrugged. "He was saying something she disagreed with – there are no lies in her face. She backed up against the wall. He laughed once and then walked away. It was brief."

Marcus would ask her about it later. Flint was correct; she would be pants at lying.

Flint and Pucey shared a look and moved to sit back down when they saw Hermione being ogled by Crabbe, who was walking up the stairs behind her.

Blaise saw red and the second that the duo walked in with smiles Blaise raised his wand to Crabbe…

Hermione sensed it immediately and turned in time to see Blaise raise his wand and only got the first two syllables of 'Crucio' out before she stepped in front of Crabbe and took the curse in his stead.

She acted on instinct, not thoughts and consequences.

It hit her hard, but she didn't make a sound, only grabbed onto the wall and bit her lip.

He ended it immediately when what she did sank in. "Hermione!"

She dropped to her knees rather gracelessly and breathed in deeply. She could feel the tears coursing down her cheeks, but could do nothing to stop them.

Crabbe went to pick her up, he couldn't believe she had done that, but Blaise stopped him cold. "DON'T. Touch. Her." Blaise warned and bent to pull her up himself.

Crabbe backed up still eyeing the downed witch with concern.

"Hermione? Hermione? I.. that was meant for…." Blaise didn't know what to say as he pulled her up and set her right.

He didn't need to finish his sentence of course because it ended abruptly with

**SLAP!**

She slapped him hard and the noise it made echoed, it seemed, in the silent room.

She stood there, in front of a wizard a foot and a half taller than she was with fire in her eyes, labored breathing, and shoulders squared.

They all could see her jaw was clenched and that it was taking every ounce of her will power not to curse the hell out of one Blaise Zabini, Head of the Caperelli Crime Family.

Flint, Pucey and even Goyle wanted to chuckle, but they dared not, Blaise had a temper of his own.

Blaise was still for a moment and the rest of the wizards were in the middle of a relieved sigh when, apparently, the witch in question thought Blaise got off too easy and threw her drink in his face.

They were all about to head for cover when they heard Blaises next words. "I deserved that," he said, wiping the drink from his face.

"You bet your arse you did!" she bit out.

He took a deep –calming- breath and watched her point her wand at him. She cast a cleansing spell and put it away.

He nodded curtly and turned around to face the stunned wizards. "Sit. We have business."

"I would like another drink… mine was spilled," she said petulantly.

Blaise glared, but conceded. "We'll wait, make it quick."

She turned and walked out, making her way to the bar. When she got there, she conjured a pen and wrote on a napkin while she waited for her drink.

She cast a quick spell and it disappeared.

She walked back in with her drink and a brandy for Blaise.

He just watched her sit primly on the love seat next to Pucey (Marcus gave her his seat) and took a sip of the drink she gave him. He liked fiery… he had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted her.

Draco turned around to order another round when he heard a pop right beneath his hand.

It was a rolled up napkin.

He unrolled it and nudged Potter, who nudged Weasley. They read it together.

_Adrian Pucey, Marcus Flint, Justin Finch-Fletchly, Theo Nott, Greg Goyle._

"Thanks, 'Mione," Potter said, smiling.

She had her legs crossed and Pucey couldn't concentrate. He kept smelling a soft feminine scent every time she moved and he couldn't focus on anything, but her long legs poised right in front of him.

Marcus was also really trying pay attention, but he couldn't get over the fact that Hermione Granger – one-third of the Golden Trio – Princess of Gryffindor – formerly bushy haired know it all was this fine young woman with legs he longed to have wrapped around his waist.

"FLINT!"

"Yes?" Marcus replied, trying to sound bored, but he knew Blaise wasn't buying it.

"Business?" Blaise asked directly.

"Yes." Sounding bored again, but was at a loss.

Hermione uncrossed her legs and sat forward. "You are responsible from getting shipment from point A to point B safely, securely and smoothly," she informed him.

"Right. So what's the problem?" Marcus asked really trying not to imagine her naked.

"Wizards," she whispered, but it was with humor. "How will you do this? Point A is … here and point B is … Point B," she said not wanting to say anything out loud.

"Eagles," Marcus said, he'd used them before and they worked nicely… as long as you kept them fed.

"Eagles?" she asked.

"Eagles," he repeated annoyed that his fantasy woman was now questioning him.

Pucey snickered.

"You know most Eagles are tagged and tracked and if you want untraceable it will cost you," she said.

"So?" he asked.

"Really? So?... " she huffed a little and stood…she smirked when he took a step back.

She spoke, "why spend the money, using something that may or may not be reliable… especially if they're hungry. Why not use Muggle transport – outside magical jurisdiction," She suggested.

"Muggle transport?" Goyle asked clearly taking a dislike to the option.

"Yes, Muggle. That's the problem with you purebloods; you don't see what's right in front of you. It's safe, easy and not expensive. Why not pocket the money you would spend otherwise for costly birds not entirely reliable," she ended.

"Moody monitors Muggle transport, too," Pucey offered.

"Not as closely and if you do it the way I think you should, it will be quick, easy and end with a little 'fuck you' to Moody from me," she said this last bit with a sneer that had the wizards in the room mirroring her expression.

"I think I love you, Granger. If you get sick of working for Zabini here, you have a place in my heart and my employment," Marcus Flint told her and watched smugly as Blaises expression darkened considerably.

"I bet you wouldn't torture me either, would you, Mr. Flint?" she asked, referring to the 'crucio incident.'

He smirked, "Well not with the Cruciatus, anyway," he said seductively, which had Pucey snickering and Goyle gagging.

The Goyle gagging part had Hermione stiffening and Blaise glaring hard enough to make the big oaf stop.

"Crabbe!" Blaise called.

"Yes, sir."

"Tomorrow you'll meet with Hermione and Flint to work out the details of transport. Think you can handle that?" Blaise asked snidely.

"Yes, sir," he replied stiffly.

"Good. Now go give that bird some attention, she's been watching the stairs for some time now," Blaise teased, looking out the large window and smiling at his employee.

Crabbe smiled for the first time since they'd entered the room. "Yes, sir."

"Granger, come dance with me," Marcus ordered humorously.

"No, she's dancing with me," Pucey said, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb across her knuckles softly.

"I don't think so, gentleman. Blaise has some groveling to do and that means dancing with me," she said, pulling her hand out of Adrians and looking at Blaise with what seemed to him to be unadulterated desire.

"Yes, ma'am," Blaise said and pulled her down the stairs, nodding to the DJ.

_Baby, you could go where ever you like  
I said you could go where ever you like, yeah_

She smiled and threw her hands in the air swinging her hips to the rhythm of T.I. 's Whatever You Like – while she walked to the floor.

_Stacks on deck, Patrón on ice  
And we can pop bottles all night  
Baby, you could have whatever you like  
I said, you could have whatever you like_

He was right behind her dancing.

They made a handsome couple while she turned in his arms to wiggle her bum into his groin.

His hands rested on her hands as their bodies moved in synchronized rhythm.

_Anytime you want to pick up the telephone  
You know it ain't nothin' to drop a couple stacks on you  
Wanted you could get it my dear  
Five million dollar home, drop Bentley's, I swear  
Yeah, I want'cho body, I need yo body  
Long as you got me you won't need nobody  
You want it I got it, go, get it, I buy it  
Tell 'em other broke niggas be quiet_

He circled his hips with hers and slid his hands up, brushing the sides of her breast while she reached back and looped her arm around his neck, pulling his face down next to hers.

_Shawty, you da hottest of the way you drop it  
Brain so good  
(Good)  
School you went to college  
Hundred deposit, vacations hit the tropics  
'Cause errbody know it ain't trickin' if ya got it  
Ya need to never ever gotta go to yo wallet  
Long as I got rubber band banks in my pocket  
Five six, adds with rims and a pocket kit  
Ya ain't gotta downgrade, you can get what I get_

He grabbed her hair and pushed her down so she was bent at the waist; him standing/dancing behind her his hand touching her arse and their bodies still moving in rhythm.

Draco, Harry and Ron were staring at her and she knew it. She felt sexy and wanton and free.

She wondered if her friends would hate her, now that she had found this other side of herself.

_My chick could have what she want  
And goin' every store for any bag she want  
And know she ain't never had a man like that  
To buy you anything ya own desire I that  
Yeah, I want'cho body, I need yo body  
Long as you got me you won't need nobody  
You want it, I got it, go, get it, I buy it  
Tell 'em other broke niggas __**be quiet**_

At the last two words, Blaise pulled her up, turned her around to face him and pressed one finger to his lips as if to tell someone to shhhh.

When the song ended, he kissed her softly at first, then he deepened the kiss when her lips parted at his tongues request.

She was so surprised that he kissed her that she gasped. He took this as permission to enter.

She had to admit, this was definitely the sexiest kiss she had ever participated in in her life. This man was seduction and power wrapped in chocolate.

She looped her arms around his neck and he held her tighter.

When they pulled away from each other, she blinked rapidly. Her knickers were wet and she wanted this man to pick her up and carry her away. She wasn't even sure if she still wanted to be an Auror anymore after this.

Blaise inhaled and his nostrils flared slightly. His eyes darkened and he licked his lips. "So sweet, Hermione. My mouth is watering, I want to lick you so bad," he murmured.

He pulled her tighter against him. "Do you want that? For me to lick you until you scream my name?" he squeezed her bum, pressing her tightly against his erection.

She could only moan.


	15. revelations

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It would not do for her to give him everything right away. This was moving too fast, but oh, how she wanted to feel him: his skin against hers, their bodies engaged in the age old dance of love and coupling.

She sighed and inhaled his scent.

He knew, of course. He knew she wanted him, but wasn't ready to take the next step… at least, not tonight.

He smiled, reading every emotion.

"Let's go back upstairs. I want to talk," he said the humor still present in his lovely indigo eyes.

She nodded and let him lead her upstairs, their hands clasped, her body hot. He was graceful and broad shouldered. Her gaze wandered lower to how his trousers fit against his perfectly formed bum. She stood by her previous opinion; he was perfection.

She hadn't realized they'd stopped and he was half-way turned to face her, wearing a smug expression. "Alright, love?"

She blushed at being caught. "Yes," she whispered.

He brought her another vodka and sat down beside her instead of placing her on his lap. She made an effort to hide her slightly disappointment, but wasn't completely successful.

He didn't say anything about it, only looked at her. "What did Weasley want?" he asked.

She didn't tense or looked worried the way he expected her to, she brought her eyes to meet his and answered truthfully. "He wanted to share his feelings with me and in the middle he realized that it wasn't right. It wasn't how he felt. We aren't for each other."

She shrugged and took another drink. She was close to tears; every feeling she'd thought she'd had for her friend for so long was incorrect and now she was feeling things for this _criminal_. How could she trust herself?

Blaise frowned. "I don't please you?" he asked.

"You please me very much, Blaise. I just don't know what to think." Then she decided to just go all in and be honest. "My mind is telling me to run away. My mind tells me that you are a criminal, head of a crime family with a particularly brutal history. I'm an…" she paused and frowned and then continued, "I _was_ an Auror and the things I know about the Caperelli family contradict everything I've fought for since I was eleven."

He nodded, understanding. He didn't know what to say, so he just listened. He knew she needed to get this all out and he appreciated that she spoke truths instead of withdrawing from him or acting untrustworthy by hiding her conflict.

She leaned in and touched his forearm. "But I can't find the energy to care. You make me feel like… well, you make me _feel_ and I so miss that, Blaise."

He smiled then and pulled her gently onto his lap.

Just then, Crabbe burst through the door with Mary Ann following closely. "I need to get you out of here, sir," he said.

Mary Ann looked breathless and Hermione gave her a questioning stare. "The Aurors, your friends, are rounding up folks. The pretty blonde took down the big burly guy!" she exclaimed.

Crabbe filled in the blanks. "It was Malfoy. He arrested Flint and Pucey."

The two were standing now. "For what?" Hermione asked her tone bordering on rage. Before anyone could act or respond to her, she was bolting out the door in a fury.

Blaise stumbled over himself, trying to catch her arm on her way passed him. Stumbling was not something he did every day. His mother had hammered 'graceful swan' into his head, starting at a young age.

Out the door in a flash and back in a flash, poking her head back in. "Blaise, go! If they lock you up they won't let you go." She was gone and down the stairs.

The music had stopped and the lights had come on and Blaise, Crabbe and Mary Anne were watching the commotion below through the large window. "Sir, we need to leave," Crabbe urged again.

Blaise dropped his head back and sighed. "Gryffindor," he said. "Call my barrister. Tell him we'll need bailing out."

"Sir?"

Mary Anne huffed with happy surprise. "You're gonna rescue her!" she exclaimed, giggling.

He smirked. "Or go down with her."

When he sauntered downstairs, she was on her knees with her hands behind her back and Harry Potter standing over her with a scowl.

He approached just in time to hear her say, "Sod off, Potter!"

"That's Auror Potter, to you, Granger," Ron sneered.

"Gentlemen, that's no way to speak to a lady," Blaise said, coming to a stop at her side.

Ron sneered and Harry chuckled. "Lady? Granger's no lady."

Blaise didn't react to them. "Alright, Cara?" he asked softly.

She nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Feeling chivalrous, Zabini?" Draco asked with a smirk, walking up to the group.

"Malfoy, what a pleasure. Looking for something in particular?"

Ron stepped up and pointed his wand. "On your knees, Zabini. We're taking you and your …cronies in for questioning."

Blaise looked around. Flint, Pucey, Crabbe and Hermione were on their knees magically bound. He wasn't about to get on his knees, not for anyone. He looked at Hermione. Someone had hit her; he could see the welt on her face. Her hair was tangled as well. He smirked; she must've put up quite a fight. The rage was coming off her in waves along with crackles of electricity. Sparks were popping near her head and hands.

He hadn't moved and that's when Ron took a step forward to make him move. Blaise turned sharply in response to Hermione's deadly tone. "Take another step, Weasley, and you and I will have a problem." She was still staring at the floor seething.

The three tried not to react; they'd only heard Hermione speak like that a few times in their lives and that was years ago, during the war. One of those times was directed at Malfoy himself.

Ron paused.

Harry, deciding to play it up, spoke, "We can place a silencing charm on you, Hermione, if you continue to threaten the Aurors."

Draco looked uncertain, but it was fleeting; he was quick to school his features. Not quick enough, though, Blaise caught most of the body language from the three and almost puffed out in pride at his little witch. She intimidated them – all three of them, even on her knees, in a dress, with her hands bound behind her back; they didn't want to push her.

She lifted her head to meet his curious green eyes. "I'm surprised you remember the spell without me schooling you first," she said, but, thankfully, he could see the humor in her eyes.

Draco didn't want to prolong this anymore. It was dangerous for Hermione… and for them if they upset her unwittingly. He looked at the way Blaise watched her. The dark wizard liked her… a lot. Not many people knew Blaise, he was quiet in school and withdrew from English society after University.

Blaise was full throttle all the time. He was single-minded and calculating and he never conceded defeat. Draco smirked to himself at that; he was the male version of Granger. Though, she was more vocal, they were of similar intellect and both got near tunnel-visioned when their noses caught a scent.

"I'm tired of playing games. Hands behind your back, Zabini. We're taking you in. You can come willingly or we can charge you with assault to an Auror," Draco said congenially.

Blaise smirked and nodded, turning his back and waiting for Malfoy to bind his hands.

Blaise walked behind Potter after he watched Draco pull Hermione gently to a standing position. Draco walked behind Blaise and Hermione behind him. Flint and Pucey were to the side of him with Aurors on each side and Crabbe had been taken earlier during the conversation.

***!***

Hours later, Hermione was sitting in the same cell she had sat weeks before. It still smelled like urine. She wanted to bathe so badly it hurt. She'd heard Flint and Pucey whispering to each other and even called her name to ask if she was alright. She'd smiled at their concern and whispered back.

Boggs had come to harass her, but she hadn't responded to him until he'd made kissing noises at her while leering at her legs. She'd kicked the door and screamed at him to leave, making him jump back in surprise. Flint and Pucey had made a stink when they'd heard that.

She hadn't heard Blaise and she was mildly worried.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her door lock clicking and Harry opening it. He didn't say anything to her, as it was too dangerous with the others around, but the emotion in his eyes told her he was worried for her.

She gave him a small smile and took in a breath to continue the charade… for him, at least. "What Potter? Come to save me from myself?" she asked in a bored tone.

He winced when she stood. He could see clearly that her cheek was purple and bruised. He kept his tone even. "No. You're free to go."

The bruise had been accidental. One of the Aurors trying to keep her from injuring another pushed her too roughly and she'd smacked her cheek on the hard dance floor with a crack.

She quirked a brow. "Blaise , Marcus and Adrian too?"

She could see their heads pop up at hearing that, just as an Auror unlocked the cell they occupied.

"A barrister posted bail."

Just then Pucey walked up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Let's go, Hermione. Blaise will be waiting." They hadn't gone two steps when the tall strong figure of Blaise Zabini strode into the holding area, looking dangerous.

His eyes narrowed on Hermione. "Alright?"

She nodded and closed her eyes when he slid his knuckles softly down her cheek. "We'll fix that, Cara."

"Touching," Harry deadpanned.

That statement earned him a glare from both Hermione and Blaise; glares so hardy he wanted to cringe, but resisted the urge.

He watched the two walk away with Flint and Pucey following at a short distance. He noticed the way Blaise possessively held Hermione's hand; confident, but gentle. He'd never thought about Hermione in a romantic way, but he took a moment to see her – as the woman she'd become. She was slender with long sculpted legs that seemed to go on forever. Fine boned and feminine, her body looked fragile, but sturdy at the same time.

He wondered if it was because he knew what she was capable of; he'd seen her fight her way through Death Eaters, torture, and criminals. Malfoy was right; they'd never given her the credit she deserved.

She was hailed as part of the Golden Trio, a witch who'd helped Harry Potter win the war against darkness, but never recognized as an individual – a war heroine in her own right.

Hermione felt Harry's eyes on her; she turned to see him frowning and staring at her. She didn't smile at him or give any indication that they were still friendly.

Ron and Draco watched from the window on the second floor as the group walked outside the door. Blaise smiled down at Hermione, pulling her close and Disapparating.

The two Aurors shared a curious look at each other in response to the expression Hermione wore as she looked up at Blaise. It was tender and accepting and … "She likes him," Ron said quietly.

Draco nodded in agreement.

They hadn't heard Harry walk up beside them so focused they were on the scene below. "Should we tell Moody?" Harry asked, knowing they wouldn't.

Both shook their heads. "She deserves someone to worship her," Draco said.

Ron huffed. "And you think Zabini will worship her?" his tone was disbelieving.

Draco nodded. "Like a goddess."

This time Harry nodded in agreement.

***!***

Hermione opened her eyes, but didn't pull away right away. "Tired, Love?" Blaise asked, relishing the feel of her body against his. His chest contracted slightly as he held her close. He bent, kissing the top of her head and rubbing his cheek in her hair.

She 'mmmm hmmm'd' in response. "Let's get you to bed then. The sun'll be up soon."

She took a deep breath of him and stepped back. "Can I borrow a t-shirt?" Her face hurt like nobody's business and she flinched a little, speaking the words.

He frowned and aimed his wand at her. Speaking a healing spell, she felt the swelling go down and the pain ebb. "It's still purple, but should be healed by morning," he said, turning away from her so she wouldn't see how very angry he was that someone hurt her.

The depth of emotion he was feeling gave him pause; she was very quickly weaving her way under his skin – it was off putting, he thought.

She was sweet, gentle, tough and skilled with magic; not to mention smart as a whip. She was a perfect match for him. "You're angry," she stated.

He smiled. Add observant to the list, he thought. "I am."

"Why?"

He faced her and felt the anger swell. "They hurt you. Someone laid their hands on you. That – will never happen again, Hermione and he will pay dearly for harming you." His words were clipped and controlled; his hands were fisted and his body tense.

She felt a bubble of pride and flattery rise in her and fought down a smile just hovering below the surface. This wasn't right. She shouldn't feel flattered that he wants to hurt someone because of her, but she couldn't help it. No one ever felt so much for her that they would feel anger at her injury or so protective of her that they promised to never let it happen again.

The anger drained out of him in a wave as he read the emotions cross her features. She liked it: his anger. He quirked an eyebrow and walked to her, stopping in front of her, watching her eyes go from happy to lust-filled in a second.

He swallowed and wanted to laugh at how nervous he'd become so swiftly. Placing his hands on her hips he pulled her the remaining distance. "Hermione," he whispered, lowering his head to meet her lips, tilting up to him.

It was a perfect moment that was interrupted just before their lips met in what Hermione was positive would be the sweetest kiss, by someone knocking on the door quite loudly and calling 'Mr. Zabini, you in there, sir?'.

They startled and at Blaises irritated face, Hermione giggled and walked to the bathroom to change.

Blaise yanked open the door and presented an impressive figure in the door way. Enough of an impressive figure for Crabbe to take a step back and clear his throat nervously. "Sir, I was just making sure you were home and not still in jail."

Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose. Crabbe was his employee, but he was once a friend. "I'm here."

Crabbe didn't move, only focused on his shoes. "Was there something else, then?" Blaise asked, knowing what was coming next.

"H-Hermione, too?"

"Yes, Crabbe, Hermione too."

Crabbe nodded and Blaise wondered what happened to the little witch he'd been wrapped around at the club. "Did you bring… what was her name, Mary Ann? Back with you?"

Crabbe smiled. "Oh, yes," he told his boss with a sly smile, making Blaise smile as well. "Well, don't neglect her on my account."

Blaise had never seen Crabbe move as fast as did at that moment. He was chuckling, while shutting the door and caught his breath as Hermione walked out of the bathroom, freshly showered and running her fingers through her damp hair. Wearing his shirt and looking so innocent she sparked a wave of desire in him that he had to grit his teeth to not push her onto the bed, spread her legs and shove his cock inside of her for the ride of her life.

She stopped short when he didn't move and then donned a mischievous grin. "Like what you see, Zabini?"

"Yes," he rasped.

The grin still present on her pretty face, gave her an impish look. She sighed theatrically. "That's nice. I'm tired," she teased him, mocking boredom, walking to the bed. Her hips were swaying just a little too much for him to ignore.

He smiled at her playful mood. "Tired, are you, witch?" he asked briskly closing the distance. He turned her around with measured roughness and pushed her on her back. Before she could react with more than a gasp in surprise, he had her legs spread and had moved in between them, pressing against her core. "Tease me, will you?"

They were nose to nose as he spoke to her. He ground his hips once, making her body arch and her mouth open in pleasure.

"Are you bored, sweeting?" he drawled with another push of his hips.

She got her breathing under control and gathered what wits she had left and answered him. Wrinkling her nose, she said, "You smell like jail cell, Blaise, you should shower," she quipped, making a big deal of sniffing him.

His face screwed up in an expression of confusion. He didn't know if she was telling the truth of just playing with him. He very reluctantly lowered his head to smell inside his shirt, making her laugh outright at him.

He wrinkled his nose and playfully glared at her. She nodded. "Told you."

He moved so fast she didn't have time to do anything, but yelp. He picked her up so that she was looking down at him. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, his hands were under her thighs and her hands were gripping his shoulders.

"What was that?" he teased.

He let his hands drop and she squeezed tighter out of instinct. He stepped away from the bed and walked to the center of the room. "Tell me you love me and I'll let you down," he coaxed.

She knew she unwrap her legs and drop the short way to the ground, but she liked that he teased her back. She shook her head and pursed her lips stubbornly.

He nodded and gave her a breath-taking smile. "Then you'll shower with me… to make sure I wash everything."

She paused. She didn't want to take another shower and she was certain he'd take her back to the bed, so she could crawl under the soft sheets.

He didn't. He walked straight into the shower and turned on the water. They were both clothed. She screeched at him and let go.

Smacking him on the arm while he laughed uproariously, she stepped from the shower and cast a drying spell.

She huffed and slammed the door shut still hearing him laughing through the closed door. Once in bed, she giggled to herself. She liked that he was willing to be silly with her. Harry and Ron were so serious all the time. It was tiring at times.

Draco could be silly, but he loved her too much to tease with her the way she liked to be teased.

***!***

Blaise peeled his wet clothes off and washed his body. He was hard and he'd wanted nothing than to bury himself inside of her.

He gripped his large erection and pumped quickly, focusing on visions of her under him, visions of her knees with her bum in the air for him to slap, visions of her spread for him, panting and wet. "nnnnnggggghhh." He came with a force he hadn't since he was a sixth year. Breathing heavily, he placed his forehead against the cool tile of the shower.

***!***

She heard the faucets turn and watched the light flick off before the door opened. His large body walked silently to his closet. He was wearing a small towel hung low around his hips.

He came to bed, wearing pajama pants and no shirt. "Do you want me to sleep in another room?" he whispered.

She turned. "No."

He slowly slid to the middle of the bed and pulled her close to him, spooning and sighing in contentment. "Sweet dreams, Hermione."

She smiled. "Good night, Blasie."

He smiled at the nick name. He was not a nickname sort of wizard, but this, he would allow. It made him want to smile and keep smiling.

He closed his eyes and listened to her even breathing before drifting off to sleep.

***!***

He was cold. It was cold. But the body next to him was warm, soft and smelled delicious. He smiled. She was molesting his chest again.

The palm of her hand traveled softly across his chest muscles, stopping to finger his now pebbled nipples and moving down to follow the trail of lined hair disappearing beneath the band of his pajama pants; given, he didn't wear a tee shirt on purpose in the hopes that she would touch his chest, but … He bit back a moan when her fingertips combed through his pubic hair and skipped across the base of his penis.

His biceps flexed around her as he rolled them over gently to spoon. He kissed her shoulder and prayed to the Gods that he could focus on something other than the bare skin of her bum pressed again his growing desire.

She grunted in dissatisfaction when he rolled them, but then sighed as she got comfortable again.

He opened his eyes to peer at her in the soft light of the morning. Swallowing, he opened his eyes fully and looked at her. The usual glamour she wore was not present, her scars were clear to him now.

He traced a thin scar on her arm with his finger. "Now, who's molesting who?" she mumbled.

"Morning, Love."

"Morning." She stretched and took a breath through her nose, but she stopped and looked at him with wide eyes. She felt, or rather didn't feel, the magic needed for her glamour. "Oh!" she gasped and tried to scramble out of bed.

Long ago she'd come to accept her scars, but she wasn't ready to reveal herself to him yet. She didn't think he was ready to see them yet.

He tightened his grip on her. "Shhhh, Cara. I like that you have marks from your experiences. It tells me that the Princess of Gryffindow isn't invincible." He was teasing, she knew, but she was still slightly uncomfortable; that was, until he placed a soft kiss on the scar he was just tracing with his finger.

In that one moment, his lips set her body on fire; a slow burn, beginning where his lips touched and traveling across her skin like tinder would paper.

She exhaled and Blaise felt her body warm at his touch. He kissed further down her arm while his large palm grazed her bare thigh up to the side of her naked rump.

His hand continued its path, pulling the shirt up with it, exposing her nudity underneath the thin shirt.

He gripped her hip; the tips of his fingers reaching to the juncture of her thigh and his thumb touching the crack of her bum. Squeezing her with his hand, he circled his hips.

She moaned and pressed her bottom more firmly against him. "Hermione," he whispered, his pelvis pumping rhythmically now.

She swallowed. "Blaise," she said stopping him by turning slightly.

His eyes were smoldering orbs. "You should see all of me, before we go too far," she said. Her voice was assertive, but shaky.

Truth was, he didn't care that she was scarred, but he was curious. The scars turned him on; they were sexy to him, but if she needed to make sure that he was still attracted to her after her reveal, then he wasn't going to argue. He would, however, have to control himself from taking her.

He nodded and loosened his arms.

She stood slowly and sighed.

He had propped himself on his elbow while she got up.

She pulled the shirt over her head and faced him. She looked so small and feminine to him. Lovely, in a word, but one word couldn't possibly describe her. She was so many things.

He sat up on the edge of the bed; his muscles rippling with the movement. His knees were wide apart and his feet planted solidly on the ground.

She waited for him, watching, hoping he wouldn't reject her.

His perusal started with her bare feet; small with painted pink toenails. She had long legs, softly rounded hips, a thin waist, and flat stomach with a hint of definition. Her breasts were plump and round and her nipples were dusky.

He met her gaze and held his arms out for her, beckoning her to come.

She stepped forward and hugged him. His hands roamed her naked body. "You're beautiful," he said. It was a simple statement, but it meant the world to her.

Pulling back a little she searched his face for some sign of dishonesty, but found none. Her position put her nipples at his mouth's level. He was not one to pass up an opportunity.

Leaning forward, he parted his lips and wrapped them around one of areolas, suckling gently.

Her head dropped back and she arched her back. Her fingers carded through his short hair, pulling his head closer. He nipped and licked at her, making her moan and pant. "Oh, yes," she breathed.

He pulled her closer and sucked harder. Hermione stepped forward and brought one knee to rest on the side of him. Balancing, she brought her other knee up, straddling him.

She tilted his face up and leaned down to kiss him like she had never kissed anyone in her life. Tongues and teeth and lips; she sucked gently, explored aggressively and coaxed persistently.

They were moving together, finding friction and giving pleasure. "I need you, Hermione, let me in." His voice was pleading and raspy.

She lifted up slightly, not letting go of his mouth. He pulled the pajamas down, moaning as his cock sprang free.

She didn't look down, knowing already that he was large. She just wanted to feel him stretch her, fill her, make her come.

She sank down slowly, taking in every inch of sensation. Their heads dropped back and they closed their eyes simultaneously.

The position was perfect as she rocked forward and he thrust upward; her clit rubbed against him, building the pressure for her climax. "Blaise, don't stop!" she exclaimed, rocking faster.

Her small hands massaged his shoulders. His skin was slick with sweat and he was grunting in pleasure.

He pumped harder, meeting her hips. She screamed his name in ecstasy when she came and he grit his teeth as her walls pulsed tightly around him. She was tight already, but when she shuddered in release he couldn't move.

Her breathing was labored as she floated down from the cloud, but he needed more. He stood quickly and put her on her back roughly. Lifting her legs and hooking them in the crux of his arm, he spread her apart and pumped violently in and out of her, making her entire body move with effort.

He came with a roar, spurting his seed inside of her walls.

Pumping shallowly, he pushed in one last time, exhausted from their rigorous lovemaking.

He rolled to the side and pulled her with him. They fell asleep together not bothering to cast any cleansing spells to wash the scent from their bodies.

Hermione's last thought was that she'd never been so satisfied in her life.


	16. Honesty

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Blaise didn't sleep much. He didn't know if it was just not something his body required in large amounts or if suspicion hindered him enough to prevent him from relaxing.

_Something was bothering him_.

He looked at the sleeping witch. The moonlight made her skin glow; her scars screaming white against her otherwise light olive skin tone.

Hermione was lying on her back, her arms askew, her legs spread with the sheets tangled up in them.

There was no hair in between her legs and Blaise leaned down to inhale her scent.

He knew there hadn't been many men in her life that held the position that he held now. In fact, he was certain that Lupin was the only one. Blaise chuckled to himself; the werewolf must not have been very well endowed as Blaise had to pump several times to gain entrance. He wondered if he'd hurt her. He was large and she was tight, very tight, but it was rapture.

One elegant finger traced the long scar across her abdomen. He watched her skin erupt in goose flesh and he felt a niggling sensation in the back of his brain.

_Something was wrong_.

His fingers topped her mons and she shifted.

Blaise let them flutter over her labia and with feathery light touches outlined each side of her inner thigh, crack and lips.

Her legs spread and her hips moved slightly, seeking pleasure. Her lips parted and her breathing became a bit labored. Blaise watched in fascination as the little muscle between her folds swelled and tightened.

With two fingers, he peeled her folds to view it more clearly. He saw her pussy clench with his touch and her clit push up like a divining rod for water, it wanted friction.

He settled between her legs and let his breath warm her sex. He inhaled again. She smelled so good.

He raised his eyes to her face and was surprised to see her eyes open. "You're teasing, Blaisie," she whispered. Her tone was raspy and seductive.

His eyes never left hers as he opened his mouth and took her in. He sucked and nipped, wiggling one finger inside of her puckered star and one inside her vagina.

Her hips were bucking softly and her eyes were dark pools of ink. She was grunting and mewling and panting with every swipe of his tongue and every thrust of his fingers.

Blaise was kissing her womanhood like he would her mouth, moving his lips, coaxing a response, inserting his tongue, expertly pushing and pulling.

She couldn't take it anymore, she was so close. "Please, Blaise," she pleaded still bucking her hips slowly.

"Tell me you're mine," he ordered, curling his fingers inside of her. It made her arch and mewl.

She mumbled something he didn't understand. "I didn't hear you. Tell me you're mine," he said his voice edgy.

She opened her eyes and looked down at him. His shoulders were stiff and though his fingers still pleasured her, his mouth hovered just above her sex. He was looking at her, piercing her with an intense stare. "Tell me."

She furrowed her brows. This wasn't about romantic inclinations; this was Blaise affirming her loyalties. They needed to have a talk, because she didn't think she could go on letting her feelings grow for this wizard and play spy. Something had to give.

She sighed and slid up out of his reach and pulled the sheet over her naked form. Hermione sat cross legged with a sheet over her lap, returning the wizards intensity.

His desire gone in that instant, seeing her pull back, the resolute expression she wore. He knew.

Wiping his mouth and vowing to get back to that later, even if he had to get rid of her afterwards would be worth it. She tasted divine and so responsive.

He didn't think he could harm her. They would 'break up' and he would end up pining for her for months, because even though he was cold blooded, he liked her; possibly loved her. This situation was not favorable. It all depended on where her loyalties lied.

They were staring at each other for an indeterminate amount of time when she finally sighed and slumped. "It's a sting operation," she confessed.

"To put me away?" he asked.

She shook her head, wondering how much she should tell him. "Increased crime against Muggle neighborhoods surrounding wizarding communities. The idea was that the controls were operating from the club; hence the public fall from grace and subsequent employment."

He was just absorbing it all. "And when they found out about me?" he asked, knowing now that Mad Eye had assigned her to give them information.

She nodded, tears forming in her eyes.

"What have you told them thus far?"

She didn't want this to end. She was fairly sure that she loved him after this short time, but her soul wouldn't let her continue to lie. Hermione took a long breath. "I told Draco who was upstairs with us."

Blaise nodded and looked away from her. Every muscle in his body was tense. "What do you want to do?" he finally asked her after walking to the window to stare out into the trees.

She swallowed. She hadn't meant to have to make this decision so quickly. Blaise turned to face her. "What do you want to do, Hermione?" he repeated.

This was it. This was the moment she would have to choose Door A or Door B. For someone so incredibly black and white; she didn't ever think that she would have to make a decision such as this. She never thought she'd be in a situation such as this. Had she ever been attracted to the bad boy? Was she now?

She stood gracefully, letting the sheet fall, uncovering her naked body.

Blaise wanted to sigh in relief and run to her, which was a strange feeling for him considering he never chased any witch, but he would her.

He opened his arms to her and she walked into his embrace. "I want you, Blaisie. Only you."

Blaise pulled her thighs up to wrap around his waist. "We'll finish this conversation later. Right now, we have business." His head lowered with the pull of her hands in his hair to kiss her deeply.

Walking them back to the bed, Blaise didn't pause when he laid her down. Pushing into her, she gasped as he stretched her.

They made love and Hermione felt like she had never experienced anything so intense. Remus and she had engaged in fierce sex when it was close to the full moon, but it never felt this …concentrated. She was going to spend her life with this man and he was letting her know that nothing short of death would part them.

She wouldn't betray him, but to keep Mad Eye off her back, they had to come up with something.

He watched her eyes close and tightened his arms around her. She sighed in contentment. He was slightly conflicted; his step father always told him to never let himself fall for a witch. They

were trouble and made wizards weak. 'Can't trust witches, Blaise, they aren't reliable,' he'd say.

Blaise had lived his life by this rule, never getting to know any witch long enough for her to get under his skin; he never let them in, never let them know his business or his feelings.

But Hermione was different; she was strong and smart and loyal. _She_ was reliable. He'd known her for years; seen her stand by an eleven year old boy she hadn't known.

She'd been devoted to Potter and from what Blaise knew they weren't lovers and hadn't ever been.

Blaise ran a finger down her cheek. This woman was his equal and he would treat her as such. He didn't like that Mad Eye was keeping tabs on her and briefly wondered if she would want to continue her career as an Auror; then he shook his head. That was not an option for her, he decided. Now, he just had to make her see that.

Her small hand lifted to his chest and he smirked. His Hermione had some kind of strange obsession with his chest; not that he minded. His nipple hardened when her fingers fluttered across, scraping her nails softly against the tip.

She was awake. "Are you having a good time?" he asked.

She smiled and opened her eyes. "What's a girl to do around perfection, but touch it?"

Her smile faded and she looked him straight in the eyes. "Are you angry with me?"

"No, but we'll need to give your crew enough information to keep them from pulling you away from me."

She nodded and twisted in his arms to face him. Kissing him on his shoulder, she said, "I have an idea."

He smiled in response. "Oh?"

"Eagles."

"Eagles?"

"Eagles."

He was looking at her skeptically. "Will you be elaborating or leave me hanging?" he asked.

She stretched her lip at his sarcasm and as if it were obvious, she explained. "You _were_ going to use eagles." she made a face at the thought of such an antiquated method of transport. "Now, you are going to do it my way, so we can give them the eagle dealer."

She was waiting for him to react, but he didn't. He was waiting for her to _elaborate_, she thought with an eyeroll.

"Moody's been after them for years. It would be of little impact to us and a major gain for them."

"And if we needed them in the future or if they put two and two together?" he asked.

"I've never seen a successfully run business with no successor or chain of command. The top dog will fall and his underling will step up. You'll still be privy to the who's who, because of who you are and as for someone connecting the dots; we're going to set up a phony run," she stated proudly.

He didn't look so convinced so she huffed again and explained further. "We'll use …umm, employees that are still wet behind the ears. Let them plan a job. We will hand pick your men, purebloods preferably, as they seem to be the families that are reluctant to change methods… Or better yet, we'll outsource to another, less important, family. They'll be so many middle men it'll never be connected back to you or your family and the eagles' dealer will be put away.

I'll give Draco and Harry the when and where."

She was excited now and Blaise was astounded that this could actually work.

She continued surprising him. "We'll set it up for the same time as the real job."

Hermione frowned. "What's wrong?" he looked surprised… er, maybe the expression was 'not as stoic as usual', which equated to surprise in her book.

She didn't give him a chance to answer. "You don't like the plan?"

He started shaking his head to ease the edge in her tone; he started to open his mouth to tell her, but she interrupted him again. "You're worried." He frowned, she went on, "Because I'm very organized. I just need to write a list of steps to achieve the goal and I'll do everything." She was shaking her head and waving her hands. "You know, maybe we can enlist the help of Flint. He seemed to be comfortable with using eagles, but I really think the fewer people that know the greater the chance of our success…"

"Hermione," he said. She stopped and looked at him. "It's fine. Your plan has merit. Goyle knows a few Squibs that have been tearing the mickey out of him to do a job." He kissed her and smiled. "All this talk of planning and success; it turns me on."

She felt the familiar burn in her belly. He began rutting against her slowly; his member getting harder by the stroke.

They jerked up at the sound of the knock at the door. This time, both Blaise and Hermione growled. Feeling at home, Hermione pulled his shirt on, stomped over to the door and swung it open with a frustrated huff.

She stood, glaring at Vincent Crabbe.

He was unsure whether to smile at her or take a step back in fear of her hexing him. After a moment of silence, he shifted balance from one foot to the other and bid her 'good morning', to which she snarled the greeting back to him. "Mr. – Mr. Zabini, sir, we have him."

She frowned. The message was vague at best. Who did he have? And where was he? And why did he have him?

"Here?" Blaise asked, irritation in his voice.

Crabbe shook his head with his eyes bouncing back and forth between Hermione and his boss. Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's alright," he said, giving the man permission to speak freely in front of Hermione.

Crabbe was pleased that the little witch was now 'in the know'. "Not here. Lo prese al carcere di Castigliari." (_I took him to Castigliari Prison_.)

Blaise threw on his clothes and walked into the loo. Hermione gave Crabbe and inquisitive look to which he responded by studying his shoes.

She didn't like this, so when Blaise walked out and kissed her. "I'll be back soon. Make yourself at home, love." He kissed her again and looked at her strangely when she smiled sweetly at him… too sweetly.

Together, Blaise and Crabbe and another wizard she didn't recognize, strode to the boundaries of the property and Apparated with a loud pop!

She hopped into action. Cleaning herself up and getting dressed, she sat on the bed and concentrated.

She'd cast a Locator Spell, which she created, on Blaise. If they were going to be honest with each other – _they were going to be honest with each other!_

Once her magic reached out to find her signature, she whispered, "Revelio!"

Her mind swirled and turned and when it found her target, she felt the squeeze of Apparition.

Hermione opened her eyes to Crabbe and Blaise physically beating the bloody hell out of… oh my goodness!

"BLAISE!" she screamed.

Every wizard in the room had been shocked into silence upon her rather unexpected arrival. "How did you find us?" Blaise asked, stunned.

She gave him a haughty look. "Cleverest witch of our age and all that rot, remember?"

He smiled. He was getting turned on again.

She looked again at the seated man bleeding on the cement floor. "You can't kill him," she said.

Blaise's face darkened. "He must learn not to touch what isn't his," he seethed.

It was the Auror who had run her face to the ground in the club that night. He was currently unconscious. "I think he's learned." She walked to him and stood perpendicular to him, her breasts touched his arm.

She tiptoed and whispered, "This is very …primal, Blaisie. We have unfinished business."

He grunted and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Of course, love."

Before Disapparating away with her, he looked at Vincent.

Once gone, Crabbe focused back on the man in the chair. "Renervate!"

The Auror jolted awake and looked frantically around.

He sighed in relief when he noticed that Zabini had left and then tensed at Crabbe's voice. "It's not your lucky day, Auror." And just as Crabbe opened his mouth to cast the Unforgiveable, the Auror yelled, "NO!"

"Avada Kedavra."

The Auror slumped, his loud voice ending abruptly. Crabbe looked at Jeffers. "Get rid of the body."


	17. tickling and screaming and Draco

Blaise's focus was …off. He Apparated them both there in one piece, but at the cost of a rather expensive vase his mother had purchased in Greece. In a tangle of limbs and hot breaths, it crashed to the ground, shattering into a million pieces. It went unnoticed by the two frenzied lovers, currently attempting to merge into one person.

Blaise didn't think he'd ever been more turned on in his entire life and Hermione mentally confirmed the written theory that sex and violence were housed in the same part of the brain. After seeing Blaise so virile and angry, and the fact that he was defending her honor in a strange warped and alternate universe kind of way, she felt desire burn through her veins at the speed of light.

He was trying desperately to walk up the stairs carrying her and with her sucking on his tongue. It would have been fine if she hadn't been squeezing her legs around his waist and circling her hips, practically humping him. Truth be told, he was walking and humping as well.

Stumbling up the steps, they finally made it to his bedroom, where he kicked the door shut and slammed her up against the nearest flat surface.

Holding her against the wall, he quickly fumbled through his trouser buttons and pulled his member out.

Blaise seemed to have a momentary lapse in judgment, because when she whined at him for not filling her, he opted to tease. Rubbing the weeping head of his cock over her wet slit, he whispered, "Say you're mine."

Hermione was panting, trying to pull him closer with her legs, and thinking all at the same time, but she was a master multi-tasker and grinned up at him. "You're mine," she said, complying with his demand.

He pushed inside of her, stopping after just the head of his large cock slipped in. Her body bowed, he whispered again, "Tell me, Hermione." It was an order, a plea, an absolute. He was pumping shallowly never going farther.

Their eyes were at war; a battle of wills. It's not that she didn't want to say it or that it wasn't true; it was that she rarely conceded anything and that was what he wanted: her concession.

He could see the emotions on her face: the want, the strain, the conflict.

Blaise slid his hand from holding her thigh to her puckered hole. She gasped and stiffened.

Wiggling his finger inside using the wetness from her sex, he synchronized pumping with his finger and his cock, which was still only buried head deep.

She'd never felt so much pleasure in her life and wanted more.

"Okay. I'm yours, Blaisie. Now, please," she begged.

Her back arched as he slammed into her sodden core. He grunted in pleasure when her tight velvet walls surrounded him.

Pulling out and pushing back in again, he said, "I'm yours too, baby girl."

Their bodies moved closer and their lips, tongue, and teeth became one. She was moving her hips and pulling his hair and he was thrusting and stroking and dominating.

Her cunt pulsed and she broke free of their kiss. "Oh…"

He pushed in one more time, her head dropped back with a thump and her body tensed. He couldn't move through her release as her body milked his. With heavy breathing and heaving chests, he walked them back to the bed on wobbly legs.

Hermione cast a Scourgify over them and laid her head to rest on the crook of his shoulder and neck. They were holding tightly to each other, as if they were afraid of what tomorrow might bring. "You feel it too," she stated.

He nodded and kissed the top of her head.

"No more secrets, Blaisie," she whispered, moving her head so she could stare into his pretty indigo eyes; so brilliant a blue that they made her want to lose herself in them forever.

"No more secrets, my love."

They spent another day together, in the solitude of his home until a large snow white owl that screamed of Malfoy possession came tapping at the window and hooting with impatience.

Blaise chuckled and let the bird in, offering it a treat. It stuck its leg out and Hermione untied the small rolled parchment while dodging its snapping beak.

"Stupid bird!" she hissed when it caught her finger tip. She sucked on the bruised tip and scowled at the preening owl, who clearly was not fazed in the least by its bad manners.

The attentions of the bird and of Hermione were diverted momentarily when Blaise deep laugh interrupted the glaring. "What's so funny?" she asked.

Blaise handed her the note and shoo'd the bird out the window.

_I'm coming over. Get dressed_.

_DM_

Hermione's eye brows rose to her hairline and her brain started whirring with thoughts of her best friend seeing her like this. It took her all of three seconds to hop into action. She was about to jump in the shower, but was held steady by Blaise's strong arm. "Tesoro," he murmured. She slumped.

"What's wrong with him coming?" he asked and then kissed her head. "I'll tell him I'll see him later."

"No," she said quickly. Turning in his embrace, she looked up at him. "It's just, I – I don't want him thinking me …ummm." She didn't know the right word, but Blaise read her face and supplied the word. "Weak?"

She shrugged. He leaned in slightly. "You're afraid he's going to know, just by seeing you, what you …feel for me?" Blaise hedged, hoping that his phrasing wouldn't be rejected.

She bit her bottom lip and peered up at him through thick dark lashes. It was such a coquettish thing to do and very out of character for Hermione that he chuckled and bent to kiss her.

Just as his lips were about to touch hers, she reared back. He opened his eyes in confusion. "Were you making fun of me?"

Her hands were on his shoulders. They weren't pushing him back… yet, but they were there, flat against his muscle. Blaise was shaking his head no, but his lips were twitched up in a cute smirk and he was still leaning down trying to catch her lips.

Hermione was slowly sinking down from her tiptoes to the flats of her feet. She was wearing a smile with one eye brow cocked. "I think you are, Blaisie. That's not very nice," she scolded. Her hand trailed from its position on his shoulder up his neck to tap the tip of his nose with her finger.

"Hermione, baby, I would never make fun of you. I'm hurt you would have such a low opinion of me."

Her body was bowed from his tight grasp around her waist and his large frame leaning forward. They were nose to nose now and she was giggling madly. "Now, kiss me and I'll pretend you didn't just assault my character with wild accusations." His chest rumbled with his deep voice. She loved that he teased with her. "Or you'll what?" she countered now holding onto his shoulders so she didn't fall backward.

She hooked her leg around his waist just in case he tried to let her go. He groaned and pressed his hips forward. Semi erect, he was still large.

He hmmm'd, his eyes never leaving hers. His long fingers crawled from her back to her sides and flexed, causing her to yelp in surprise. She stiffened and pointed her finger at him, so close if he'd been looking at it, he would've been cross-eyed. "No!" she told him with her best authoritative voice; one that wouldn't cause him to tickle her again.

He, of course, didn't listen to her. In a matter of seconds, he had her slung over his shoulder squeezing the backs of thighs and sides, tickling her and walking down the stairs one step at a time. He was tsking and chuckling and tickling her mercilessly.

Hermione was screaming and laughing and pounding on his back to let her down. Her feet were paddling back and forth so violently he lowered his arm to hold her by the knees so she wouldn't kick him; then started tickling her harder, which caused her to scream louder, which resulted in the house-elves to stop what they were doing to check the new Lady of the Villa.

This is how Draco found them. Blaise stopped half-way down the stairway, a smiled on his face, looking at Hermione's bum. The bum in question was connected to a small witch kicking, screaming, and laughing hysterically; her hair bouncing two feet from the floor.

The house-elves were scattered and watching carefully with their ears plastered to their heads and their eyes wide with worry.

Two of Blaises _employees_ were standing in the entry nearer to the kitchens wearing stoic expressions and holding sandwiches in their hands.

Draco had the familiar sensation of being entranced. He suspected many things were causing this intense focus of attention on the usual aloof wizard and the former Auror. The primary being that laughter wasn't something that one heard in households such as this one, with occupants such as these.

He was hesitant to make his presence known, their laughter was contagious. He felt his lips start to twitch upwards at the corners. Draco's quiet observation was interrupted by one of the house-elves, Coco, he thought her name was.

She hopped up the stairs and trembled a bit before she called his name. "Master Bini? Master Malfoys is here's," she said.

Zabini's face snapped up and all jovial emotion was wiped from his face in an instant. Draco knew he wasn't angry, but Blaise was Slytherin through and through. He wasn't surprised Hermione had drawn the Italian wizard out of his impassive presentation; she had done the same with Draco, but for Blaise to carry their …_play-time_ outside the bedroom made Draco mentally rear back with astonishment.

"Draco," Blaise greeted.

Hermione had stopped everything and now peeked around Blaises hip, as much as she could, with wide eyes.

Draco could hear her hissing at Blaise, but didn't catch exactly what she'd said. In the next moment, Blaise set her gently down on her feet.

She smoothed her denim shorts fraying at the ends, smoothed her hair, took a deep breath and looked at the blonde.

Draco thought she was just flushed from hanging upside down, but her cheeks were still burning and he smirked when he realized she was blushing.

She swallowed, fearful that he was here in a professional capacity, but when he smiled at her, she knew; he was just here as Draco.

She skipped down the steps and straight into his arms, relieved that he knew and didn't hate her. He hugged tightly and closed his eyes.

This little witch had saved him and he would love her for eternity. "You love him." It was a whispered statement for her ears only.

She nodded and half sobbed into his shoulder. "It's okay, sweet witch."

Blaise had watched just about enough of Draco holding his witch. "Hermione," he said with his deep, confident voice.

Draco opened his eyes and watched as his best friend kissed him on his cheek and walked backward to stand at Blaises side. Her eyes were telling Draco that she loved him and nothing would change that, but that she had chosen a side.

Blaise looped an arm around her waist and motioned to the drawing room. The three sat down in the masculine room. Draco took a seat in a large leather seat near the window and Hermione and Blaise sat on the small sofa across from Draco. Coco came in a moment later and poured them all a tumbler of Firewhisky.

Blaise had not stopped touching Hermione and Draco felt a warmth spread through him for her. She deserved this and so did Blaise.

They were waiting for him to speak. Draco took a sip and crossed his legs, leaning back in the comfortable chair. "Moody's starting to wonder… verbally."

Hermione nodded and smirked. "I have a plan," she said.

"Of course you do," Draco replied, rolling his eyes.

Draco's gray eyes shifted to Blaises Indigo and what he found there eased his worries. Confidence.

Hermione looked at Draco with a smile and back at Blaise with complete adoration. Draco rolled his eyes again and started gagging, making them all laugh.


End file.
